Forever is a Long Time
by Mrs. Lily Darcy
Summary: Elizabeth Fitzwilliam is the only daughter to the Fitzwilliam's. The Fitzwilliam's and the Darcy's are not related but very close friends resulting in the close friendship of Lizzy, Richard, and Darcy as young children. When Elizabeth is sent off to etiquette school, Richard sent off to the service, and Darcy to Uni what will happen when childhood innocence is lost over time?
1. Chapter 1

"Lizzy, I can hear you laughing," Darcy scolded.

It was never any fun playing hide and seek with his friends' younger sister. Richard always had to include Elizabeth. No matter what it was they were doing, even in swords play. Darcy could not help but wonder why a lady was playing with swords at all. Girls did not do things such as that. They sipped tea, and sewed purses, practiced pianoforte and singing, learned to draw. Why was Richard's one and ten years of age sister not playing with other young ladies? Darcy scurried around the large oak tree and jumped out, "Boo!" Darcy's brow furrowed in confusion. He could have sworn he had heard Elizabeth. Looking about he scratched his head. She began to giggle again. He could tell it was distinctly her giggle because it made birds and the most elegant musicians envious. Not that he had noticed such a thing.

"Lizzy, I give up. Where are you?"

"How is that any fair, Darcy? You have yet to look for Richard. Why must I give up my hiding place?"

Darcy searched for the voice but could not find its source. "Elizabeth," he started but was cut off as the lady in question hopped down from the large oak tree. Dissolving into a fit of laughter at Darcy's look of astonishment.

"Careful Darcy, your face may become stuck like so."

Though Darcy was a gentleman, and one of sixteen years of age, he stuck his tongue out at the young girl. Yet again making her dissolve into giggles.

"Come Darcy, let us find my brother. I know where all his hiding spots are. They are rather silly might I add, but he refuses to hide anywhere else. Though when I think of it Darcy, it is the perfect hiding spot when you are the seeker." She smiled back at him and trudged up towards the Fitzwilliam Manor. He scrunched his face in confusion and a bit of disdain.

"Well what does that mean?"

Elizabeth skipped forward, "You shall see Fitzy dear, you shall see."

Darcy growled, "She knows I hate to be called Fitzy," He mumbled.

Elizabeth and Darcy walked into the drawing room their mother's sat in.

"Good afternoon, Lizzy, Fitzwilliam," Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam greeted. "Are you done with your game dears?"

"No ma'am, we have yet to find Richard" Darcy replied.

Elizabeth shooshed him and grabbed his hand pulling him towards the settee. Right beneath it, covered slightly by a fallen cushion, was Richard's black clad booted feet. Elizabeth pointed towards them and raced off to sit next to her Mama.

"I have found you, Richard, your giant feet have given you away."

Richard slithered out from under the settee, "Mind you and my big feet. I rather think it was a younger sister," Richard smiled.

"Twas not, Richard I swear it. Darcy found me and I came back to rest next to Mama. Tis no fault of mine your feet are rather large in size."

Neither Richard nor Darcy could hold back their laughs. Elizabeth at such a young age was quite the wit. She could hold her own nicely. Darcy had been friends with the Fitzwilliam's since his very birth. His Mother and Lady Fitzwilliam were great friends, as well as their fathers. Even Georgiana, though she was only seven years old and terribly shy, loved Elizabeth as a sister. There was, of course, Richard and Elizabeth's eldest brother, Thomas. He was the rightful heir to the Fitzwilliam's fortune and title, and he made sure everyone knew it. Though Darcy did not see much of him as he was a bit older and married with three children.

"Darcy? Richard? Might we have a game of chess? Winner receives the others treat after supper."

Darcy looked at his feet not comfortable with the idea of being beaten by a girl, for he knew he would be beaten by Elizabeth and not Richard. She had won his treat's countless times over the years. She could see him hesitate and added, "Darcy, one last time? Before you and Richard leave me?" She walked towards him and looked up at him with her hazel brown eyes. "Please?"

Darcy grunted before shaking his head in the affirmative. How could he resist such tempting eyes? He shook his head, none of those thoughts.

Twenty minutes later and Elizabeth was glowing. She had won both Darcy and Richard's treats for the night.

"Oh do not look so sour, Darcy. I am sure that that school you are to attend shall teach you how to better play chess. Besides now you have a fond memory of me before you depart at the end of the week for university. Well perhaps it is the other way around, I have a fond memory whereas you," she paused to lick her fork she had just taken a bite off of the treat she won. "Just have a memory." Her eyes danced with mischief and mirth.

Her father, the Earl of Matlock, laughed a throaty laugh at Lizzy's teasing manner. "Come Darcy, humor the poor girl. It will be quite some time before you see her again. She is off to school as well you know. Etiquette school for young ladies. That reminds me, Richard you and her both depart the same day. Might I add his majesties army will be gaining quite the soldier."

Richard coughed, choked up at his father's compliment, "thank you, Father."

The Earl nodded his head and turned back to his conversation with the elder Mr. Darcy.

"Well Lizzy, dear, are you excited for school?" Richard asked as Lizzy sat doe eyed eating her third treat. Darcy stared in wonderment at how such a small girl could finish all three treats in one sitting. One of her brown curls hanging over her brow, covering her eye. She flicked it away and frowned.

"No, Richard and you are aware of it. I do not see the reason behind going to etiquette school. I am a perfect lady all on my own."

Darcy snorted.

"Why Darcy, care to explain the snort?" Richard smirked.

Darcy looked down, color rising to his cheeks. He was never one for confrontation and Elizabeth always seemed to have one on the edge of her lips.

"No, I simply find it amusing that a girl who duels as well as a boy, climbs trees, has more holes in her stockings than can count, and has a sharp tongue can count herself among the ladies. More or less a perfect one."

Richard leaned back in his chair slightly amused at how true the statement was and how Lizzy looked ready to kill. Only he was surprised, and so was Darcy, when Elizabeth simply took an over exaggerated bite of her treat.

 **A/N: Hiya fanfiction readers! So this is my first JA FFN so please review and tell me what you think. If you like it I might continue it.**

 **~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	2. Chapter 2

August 5th, 1802 (Elizabeth 10, Darcy 16)

 _Dear Darcy,_

 _I have just arrived at school but six days ago and I already hate it. The mistress's are horribly cruel and the other girls are terribly mean. Perhaps though it will get better with time? I do so hope, for I don't think I will survive seven years of this. However I must look on the bright side, the boat ride over here was amazing! Simply breathtaking Darcy, I never knew the water could look so blue, nor the sky, and two different shades at that. Oh! And the smell Darcy, the wind carried it all around you, like it was wrapping a blanket about your shoulders. I would not mind being a sailor I think. To stay on the water for days on end, I would like that very much. I said as much to one of my mistress' and she scolded me for saying such things. Telling me such thoughts were wicked, and thoughts of men. I replied with "Fine than perhaps I will be a sailorman's wife. They can travel with their husbands and I would still be a perfect lady." She pulled me aside and slapped my knuckles for such speech. I miss home Darcy, I miss Richard, and I miss our time together. I know I have only been here six days but I have yet to make any friends, and I am missing mine so very terribly. Do write back Darcy._

 _I await your reply,_

 _Elizabeth Fitzwilliam_

November 23rd, 1802

 _Dear Darcy,_

 _Perhaps my other letter was lost at sea for you have yet to reply. Ah well, you are either terribly busy or my letter was lost. Things have only gotten worse since I last wrote Darcy. I sit by myself in all my lessons, I am constantly in some sort of trouble, and the other girls tease me. I was never any good at sewing and singing and playing, and they make a point of letting me know it. French comes easily to me I have learned, and it is yet another thing for the girls to tease me about. Though I suspect they are more jealous than actually finding humor in the situation. I have written to Richard as well, he told me to stick it out, things would get better. He told me 'it is only your first year little one, things will get much better. I promise.' Though it's hard to believe his promise when things at the present are so dismal. I have been reading a lot, any spare time I have I read. It's hard because the mistress's only let us read certain things. Poetry, novels, sermons, but I am happy with what I receive. I mostly read poetry as it is the only thing that holds my attention. How are things at university? You must be very busy. Send my love to Georgiana I miss her most violently._

 _I await your reply,_

 _Elizabeth Fitzwilliam_

 _February 19_ _th_ _, 1803_

 _Dear Mr. Darcy,_

 _I have learned that it is most improper to write a young man, though he be a friend, in such an informal way. I beg your forgiveness for my impropriety. Mayhap I have nothing to ask forgiveness for though since I am certain my letters are not reaching you. I know Richard receives my letters for he writes me back immediately, and I know you would too had you received my previous two letters. I fear the separation of water is the cause of all this. For Richard is on the continent as well, therefore his letters don't get lost. I pray this one finds you. I miss you dearly, I feel my heart is about to break. You are such a dear friend of mine, more of a brother really. Is university well? Is it all you were expecting it to be? You must tell me all about your learnings, I crave to know the things you do. All I learn here, is lace, pianoforte, singing, sewing, more lace, French, Italian, German, reading, sermons, more lace, dressing, eating properly, using the right cutlery, etc. I grow quite bored and I still have six years left! How is Georgiana, is she well? How about your mother and father? Send my love to them please. I miss all of you so very dearly. I still have yet to make any friends, Christmas day was quite morose. I sat by the hearth writing letters to my family. I did not write a letter to you however in hopes you had responded to my last letter. I thought it foolhardy to write so very often with no reply. I wrote to mama, and papa, and Thomas, and dear Richard. I told them how well things are here but it was all a front. A lie so they would not worry over me. Though I find it easy to pour my feelings out to you, perhaps it is because I have known you for so very long, but do not feel the weight of familial obligation upon my tiny shoulders._

 _I await your reply,_

 _Lady Elizabeth_

May 18th, 1803

 _Dear Mr. Darcy,_

 _I sigh with a heavy heart Mr. Darcy. It has been so very long since I have heard from you and I fear I am beginning to lose hope. However I will rise above it and continue in my faith in you that this letter MUST reach you. I have asked Richard if he has had contact with you but he seemed to avoid the question. Perhaps he is having the same problem as I. I hope university is going well. I yearn for the knowledge you must gain every day. Today is my Birthday in case you had not noticed the date. I have turned one year older and now I grow closer to coming home. Six years left, only six Mr. Darcy. Then I may speak with you face to face once again. We may play chess and dual with our wooden swords. I have no one to practice with here so you might very well beat me. However I look forward to being beaten because then at least I would be in your and Richard's company again. How I desire nothing more. I have dedicated my whole day to writing letters to my loved ones. You included Mr. Darcy, though I fear with my past letters this won't find you. I simply know they are being lost at sea for you would write me back, wouldn't you Mr. Darcy? You would write your childhood friend back at least once to tell her you have received her letters. To tell her you are doing well and are frankly too busy to write often. Wouldn't you Mr. Darcy? Wouldn't you? I beg I must end this letter now for my childish tears will spill onto the page._

 _I desperately await your reply,_

 _Lady Elizabeth_

April 7th, 1804

 _My dear, poor, Darcy,_

 _How I wish to bring you comfort! If only my letters would make it to you. Richard has told me of your parent's accident. I weep for you and Georgiana, the pain you must be feeling. I cannot comfort you by telling you I know how it feels for I do not. I would not wish your pain on my worst enemy, and being at this school I have many. Please Darcy if you receive this answer me. I want to help but I do not know how. Perhaps I shall let you win next time we play chess. I laugh at my own silliness, your pride would not allow that. Maybe I will make it seem like you won, you wouldn't even know I let you. I wish I knew if this brought a smile to your face in one of your darkest hours. It would bring me much joy to know I did something to help. Send my love to Georgiana, and my condolences._

 _I pray for you in your time of need and await your reply,_

 _Elizabeth Fitzwilliam_

January 24th, 1807

 _Mr. Darcy,_

 _I am not so ignorant now as to believe my letters were lost at sea. After my eleventh birthday I heard a girl in one of my lessons speak of sending a letter to her brother in the Americas. Which, if I am correct in my geography, which I am for I study it in my spare time, America is quite further than England from Italy. I know not why you do not answer my letters, I have pondered the very question these past four years. Speaking of which is why I decided to write you one last letter. Mind you the running ink, I will not shy away from the fact that they are my tears. My eyes simply cannot stop running. Anyhow I have decided to put a formal ending to our correspondence and friendship. Not as though there was much of either. Matter-of-factly it was just a foolish child trying to keep a fictitious friendship alive. I am not a child anymore, therefore I know that what I thought we had as children was merely a man being kind to a child. Prey forgive my ignorance, I know better now. I will not dabble on with silly sentimentalisms I do not mean nor believe._

 _My formalist regards,_

 _Lady Fitzwilliam_

 **A/N: Hi people! First of all thank you so much for the reviews, faves, and follows, they mean so much to me. They put the biggest smile on my face! I am elated by the attention my story has received. So this chapter was a bit different, a filler chapter really. I just wanted you guys to see how Elizabeth's friendship with Darcy crumbles over the years, and what better way to do that than letters? The rest of the story won't be in this manner in case you're not into the whole letter-style-story-telling. If you are than I have pleased you and you're welcome haha. Anyway thanks again for all the awesome reviews and the reaction my simple story has got.**

 **Much love ~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth stood before her room looking at the bare bed, the open curtains, and the empty washing bowl. She had spent seven years of her life in this room, crying, smiling, writing, reading, singing, and so on. She was not sad to leave it however, she was most excited to once again be home. She would take a ship back across the water to her home where her family awaited her. Her mother had already wrote to her speaking of her coming out ball, a simple dinner party here or there before hand, etc. She sighed, she was not looking forward to all the balls, and dinners, and assemblies she was to attend. She had already spent seven years perfecting how to be a perfect lady, could not the people simply take her word for it?

Looking one last time at everything Elizabeth grabbed her journal and bonnet and walked from the room. She felt a slight weight lifted off of herself as she was handed into the carriage and rode away from the school that caused her so much pain. Once on the ship Elizabeth refused the offer of a room and sat out on the deck right below the banister. She could see the dark blue waves that began to lighten in shade as the sun reached its highest point in the sky. That was when Elizabeth began to write. She had never been any good at drawing, and had spent countless hours over a canvas trying but it never seemed to come to her. Instead Elizabeth wrote, because with her words she could create the same picture and it be unique to everyone.

After spending a good time writing about her trip at sea, Elizabeth was handed out of another carriage only this time she was greeted not by the sailormen and the water, but by her dear mama and papa.

She smiled at them as they walked down the grand steps of their London home.

"Oh my dear girl look at how much you have grown!" Lady Fitzwilliam cooed.

"Yes I strictly remember sending a little girl off to school, and now look at you my girl." Elizabeth blushed under her parents praise.

"Thank you papa, oh how I have missed you both so very much. I have so much to tell you."

"Well than why are we standing around out here for all the world to see? Come in Elizabeth, come in." Her father ushered, taking her arm and her mothers.

Elizabeth smiled and took in a deep breath as she stepped back into her home. The familiar smell of her mama's perfume and her father's cigars filled her nose. She loved that smell. After she had freshened up in her old bed chambers and had rested she joined her parents in the drawing room.

"Did you rest well Elizabeth?"

"Yes mama, thank you. It was probably the best sleep I have had since I left. My bed feels exactly the same and I loved it."

Her mother smiled at her, she would never admit it but she had never wanted Elizabeth to be sent to school. It was her father that was so obliging of the idea, saying that while she was a little girl it was fine she ran around with the boys but, she needed to learn to be a young lady. After all they had an image to uphold and if they had not given their daughter the best of educations there would have been speculation. Heaven knows she had received enough of it for letting Elizabeth play with her brother and his friends.

"Well I am just glad you are finally home, I have missed you beyond comprehension." She paused, looked over at her husband and back to her daughter, "and between you and I your father is driving me mad," she pretended to whisper. Making her and Elizabeth laugh at her father's expression.

"Why did you not tell me my dear? I would have been happy to drive someone else mad for a while." Her father teased.

"Yes but I do not wish for you to drive anyone else mad, I would be wrought with jealousy."

Elizabeth smiled brightly at her parents banter. Their marriage had been a love match, it was just by the hand of God they were both wealthy, titled, and well connected.

"Now Elizabeth, child, retell to me your seven years spent away from home." Her mother asked grasping her hand in hers.

"Ah not without me, I am the favorite brother. Therefore I must be included in the retelling of these lost years with my favorite sister." Richard said sauntering into the room.

If possible Elizabeth's face lit all the more up, "Richard!" she replied getting up and racing into his arms. "Oh Richard it has been far too long, I have missed you so much. I thought you were stuck in the Peninsular?"

"I was but then I was unstuck, and now I am here. Do you think I would miss my dear sister's homecoming? Even Napoleon cannot stop me."

Elizabeth laughed as she rejoined her mother on the couch, and her brother took a seat across from them in an arm chair by their father.

"Now you were about to regale us with tales of your schooling?"

"Ah yes, well there is not much to tell really. I went, I learned, I am back. See much improvement?" She asked playfully standing up and turning from side to side.

"Yes, some beautiful young woman has replaced my dear little one. I will have to resign from his majesty's army to defend your honor dear sister."

For Elizabeth was very beautiful, with chestnut curls that reached her waist when down, glistening hazel eyes that shown her happiness, and a curvy but pleasing figure. She would be engaged before the year was through.

"Oh Richard you tease me, I am nothing special. You simply just forgot what I looked like, it has been seven years. Though you have changed very little."

"Why thank you dear little one that means much to an old man."

The Earl and Lady Fitzwilliam sat back listening to their children's banter with glowing hearts. Overjoyed to have their family almost complete again.

Come supper time Lady Fitzwilliam could not be kept quiet about Elizabeth's upcoming ball. It was to be the highlight of the season. Even bigger and grander than the Fitzwilliam annual New Year's ball, which anyone who was anyone attended.

"Now Elizabeth dear, there are five young men especially I want you to save room on your dance card for. They come from very rich, connected families. Nice young men too, and around your age as well. Oh and Richard I have invited Mr. Darcy as well. I thought since you two are such good friends, and his parents, bless them, and yours were such good friends, and he was like a second son to me, why not? Also he is the most sought after bachelor. Not one for our Elizabeth of course, but to have him here at all," She paused to take a bite of her lamb.

Elizabeth had been exchanging amused glances with her father until Mr. Darcy's name was brought up. She grew slightly paler at the mention of her old friend, no old acquaintance name.

"Mr. Darcy is to come?" Elizabeth asked trying to keep an heir of indifference in her voice.

"Well I know not if he will come but I have invited him. You do not have to pay him any attention Lizzy it is only for appearance sake. Besides there will be other young ladies at your ball, he might take a fancy to one of them."

"So not only is my ball a matchmaking party for me, but for others as well?"

"Lizzy, that's not what I meant. I am sorry I fear I got carried away."

Elizabeth looked up at her mother, "Do not be silly mama, I appreciate you going through all this trouble to help my coming out be the event of the season. Thank you." Though Elizabeth was really thinking, why not stand me on a soap box and sell me to the highest bidder? It will go faster, less pain really.

Lady Eleanor smiled back at her daughter but she could see the light that was in her eyes died down. Her smile was forced and she stopped eating her half eaten lamb.

"Excuse me, I have a sudden headache. It must be from my travels, thank you mama, papa, Richard, good night."

Brushing out her long hair and having her maid Lucy plait it Elizabeth was lost in thought. She highly doubted finding a man she would like let alone love at her ball. For Elizabeth would only marry for the deepest of love, though her parents did not know that. She had fancied herself in love once before, she now realized it was a childhood infatuation, not love. She had been so stupid, silly really to think a man six years her senior could love a child. Her heart had broken at this thought. Though she looked well and put together she was not. She had been broken and bruised too many times she thinks to be fixed. Once she was sent to school the spirit she has thrived on was beaten out of her, quite literally. It had taken eight months for Elizabeth to figure out that ignorance, carelessness, frankness, and blunt speech was not tolerated in her school, nor in the real world. Her knuckles and wrists had been swatted so many times she began to fear her hands would be ruined. The only thing that kept her going was the thought that Mr. Darcy must write her soon, anytime now, any day now, nothing. When that was made clear Elizabeth lost her fight for a while. That was until she wrote him one last letter at fourteen ending their correspondence and finding a new hope. The hope that she could shove Mr. Darcy's face in her success in becoming one of the most accomplished young ladies of her school. However when Elizabeth thought of this it did not bring her any happiness. Sighing, Elizabeth lay in bed listening to the noises outside her window. The season was just beginning and one could tell. Carriages rode up and down the cobbled streets and one could her the laughter of ladies and gentlemen. Turning to her side she finally drifted to sleep, but not before thinking quite a bit about a particular gentlemen laughing.

 **A/N: Bonjour people! So someone commented on my lack of historical knowledge of that time period, haha so I went back and fixed the errors. Thank you! Please do correct me if I have something wrong or backwards. I haven't done any research for this, it is based wholly off of what I think I know, (which in some cases is wrong haha) hopefully you liked it, let me know. Oh! And about the letters we will get to that, be patient.**

 **Much love ~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	4. Chapter 4

The Ball Part 1

A week passed and Elizabeth felt her spirit start to grow, it may still be damaged but it was healing, as well as her heart. Tonight was her coming out ball and she had woken up with an attitude that nothing could nor would damper her evening. She was going to dance till her feet hurt and more, she was going to have delightful conversation, and she was going to see her very best friend Jane Bingley nee Bennet. Jane had just recently married a Mr. Bingley at age one and twenty and she was overjoyed. Elizabeth had not seen her friend since before she left for school. They were quite inseparable when they were little girls. Jane's uncle is in trade and Elizabeth's father indorsed in part of the company. They had met at the park in London when both families were out for a walk. Along with Jane came her sister-in-law's a Caroline Bingley and a Louisa Hurst, the latter being married to a man of large fortune. From what Jane told Elizabeth through letters her sisters were quite nice and very fashionable. Elizabeth could care less to meet more girls that were like the ones from her school.

"Ma'am how is it you want your hair this evening?" Lucy asked as Lizzy sat at her vanity.

"One that will maintain through the night and something that does not give me a headache is all I ask Lucy," Elizabeth smiled.

"Yes ma'am," Lucy replied as she set to work on Elizabeth's hair. Coiling, braiding, and twisting, the final look was her hair wrapped up atop her head leaving the lower half down to rest on her shoulder. Pearl pins were set in place to match her navy ball gown. Elizabeth's gown had a tight corset vest that Elizabeth thought showed too much, draped sleeves that fell off her shoulders and a full skirt. The only other color or thread weaved through out the gown was a shimmering silver that made the dress sparkle.

"Lucy you work wonders, I do not know how you manage this hair but you do, and so wonderfully too."

Lucy blushed at her mistress's praise, "Thank you ma'am," she curtsied and helped Elizabeth into her slippers. A knock at the door made them both turn their heads, Lucy hurriedly stood to answer the door, "its Colonel Fitzwilliam ma'am."

"Oh let him in Lucy I am almost done."

"Yes ma'am," Lucy replied opening the door wider for Richard to step in.

"My do you get pretty with every second? I swear I left you just this morning after breaking my fast and now here I am and you look ravishing."

A becoming pink tinted Elizabeth's cheeks, "Thank you Richard, I suppose you are here to escort me down?"

"Oui Mademoiselle, for the carriages have arrived and the people are eager to see their star."

"I highly doubt that, but of course I mustn't keep my subjects waiting," She teased.

"No that would not do, we do not wish to have a riot on our hands. I fear after tonight we just might."

"You exaggerate Richard, no wonder you ranked so high up so fast. You could make Bonaparte blush with compliments."

"You wound me dear sister," Richard feigned, grasping his chest where his heart lay.

Elizabeth giggled as they walked down the steps and into the ballroom. Richard smiling all the while to see in his sister's eyes the light that once shown there.

…

Darcy's P.O.V.

Darcy had arrived at his London home four days ago for the season. He had wanted to stay at Pemberley with Georgiana, but it was she who urged him to go. More for her benefit than his, she was lonely and wanted a female companion other than the hired Mrs. Annesley. Darcy agreed it was most likely time he began to look for a wife. The problem was all the woman were the same brought up snobs he could not stand. Mrs. Reynolds had told him to start a mental list of things he could not live without and things he could. So began the mental check list he would use that night. One, anyone but Caroline Bingley, Darcy thought with a grimace. His old friend Bingley had contacted him saying he would be in town for part of the season to introduce his new bride. 'An angel' according to Bingley with a kind disposition, or at least he thinks. Bingley's writing was very hard to read do to it being fast paced and splotchy.

He thanked Phillip as he finished tying his immaculate cravat and walked from his room and out the front door. It had been seven years since he had seen Elizabeth, he decidedly felt awkward attending tonight. However she was Richard's sister and his parents had been close to the Fitzwilliam's. He had to attend to avoid spiting them on accident by attending someone else's soirée and not theirs. Not to mention it was to be the biggest ball of the season and the chances he would actually run into Elizabeth were slim. Two, cannot be Richard's little sister.

Upon arriving he was greeted warmly by the Earl and Lady Fitzwilliam.

"Mr. Darcy thank you for attending," the Earl greeted bowing to him.

"I would not have missed this sir." Darcy replied with a bow back.

"Mr. Darcy what a pleasure! Richard will be down shortly, I will notify him of your arrival if I see him."

"Thank you Lady Fitzwilliam," Darcy replied not knowing what else to say. He bowed again and left for the ballroom. Stalking close to the wall Darcy walked the perimeter of the crowded room. Three, cannot smell to high heavens of flowered perfume.

"Mr. Darcy!" a voice shrieked, making several people who hadn't notice him take notice. He cringed knowing exactly who the voice belonged to.

"Mr. Darcy," it called again in a sing song tone. Darcy had no choice but to turn around.

"Mr. Darcy it has been far too long! I have missed your company, and pray tell how is dear Georgiana?"

Darcy refrained from rolling his eyes, four, can't be over dressed or zealous in their clothing.

"She is fine Miss Bingley, thank you."

"And how are you Mr. Darcy?"

"Fine."

"Oh wonderful, I find myself in the best of moods Mr. Darcy," she purred, but it ended up sounding like she had a bubble in her throat.

Darcy grimaced and nodded his head.

"How long are you here for Mr. Darcy?"

"I know not, at least part of the season."

"Oh how delightful! Us as well. I was just telling Charles," Caroline was cut off as everyone drew quiet looking towards the entry way.

Darcy felt his stomach give an involuntary flip, there, eyes alight with laughter was Elizabeth. She had grown, formed, and her dress helped him take notice. Her eyes still carried that light Darcy had felt himself fall in love with so many years ago. Even before she had left for school and him for university. The blue dress complimented Elizabeth's dark curls, the silver of it making her glow. 'In the end,' Darcy thought, her dress resembled the night sky but Elizabeth resembled the heavens.

"Excuse me Miss Bingley," Darcy pleaded as he made his way over to where Richard led Elizabeth. Caroline stood seething at being ignored and then dismissed. All for Lady Elizabeth, she thought mocking her. 'She may be a lady but I have more to offer to Mr. Darcy. I know how a man likes to be cared for, _she_ certaintly does not.' Caroline thought walking away and towards her brother.

"Lady Elizabeth do you have the next set free?" Darcy heard a young man ask as he drew closer. He swallowed hard at the thought of another man dancing with her.

"I do indeed Mr. Anderson."

"Capital! I shall retrieve you then," he bowed and left. Darcy moved a bit closer waiting his turn to make it into the inner circle formed around Elizabeth. He, however was quite tall and Richard spotted him standing behind the other gentlemen.

"Darcy old man is that you?" Richard shouted at him.

"Richard, good to see you." Darcy replied walking through the crowd and into the inner circle. Coming face to face with Elizabeth. Darcy tried not to stare but she was even more beautiful up close. Her nose was small and round, she had long black lashes that made her bright eyes pop, and she had laugh lines already forming around her thin lips. She was a goddess, Athena in her human form, a wood nymph come to tempt him. Yet she was still that Elizabeth he knew when he was a boy. She still had those mesmerizing brown eyes, those same pink lips that she was so in the habit of biting when she was uncomfortable, and her hair it still seemed ready to spring loose of its pins.

"The same old man, please allow me to re-introduce my sister, Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam."

Darcy turned towards Elizabeth grasping her gloved hand in his. He had watched those hands move chess pieces, had watched those hands grasp tree branches countless times, and watched those hands eat his stolen treats after supper.

"Lady Elizabeth," he bowed over her hand, trying to never break eye contact with her. Though Elizabeth made that impossible. She made sure she did not make eye contact with him. Elizabeth was determined to forget Mr. Darcy, they were not friends, and they were not enemies, simply two people who shared memories.

"Mr. Darcy," She curtsied before pulling her hand back.

Darcy gave her a tight smile, "Do you have a set free Lady Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth tried not to groan, she had her set after supper free. "I do Mr. Darcy, after supper."

He nodded and turned back towards Richard to distract himself from the bewitching beauty in front of him. Hearing the music start Elizabeth turned to her brother, "Richard the first dance is starting, shall we?"

"Right, of course Elizabeth. Excuse me Darcy." They bowed to each other and Darcy watched as Richard led Elizabeth to the floor. The smile that had left her eyes now returned as she opened her ball with her brother.

...

Elizabeth's P.O.V.

Elizabeth had spent the supper set with her eldest brother Thomas, who had traveled down for three days just to attend her coming out ball. Elizabeth never really cared for her eldest brother, he was pompous, arrogant, and quite bluntly stupid. She was now wishing she had not agreed to give him her supper set. His conversation was quite literally killing her. She was trying very hard not to beat her head against the table relentlessly. She had thought early that it would be nice to have a bit of a breather in between dancing and spend her supper with a relative. She was now seeing the error of her ways.

"So I told the young proprietor that he was sorely mistaken, I told him that _Othello_ was indeed written by Lord Byron and plagiarized by Shakespeare. He violently disagreed so I went on to ask him, 'did you attend Cambridge? Did you mark well in all your classes? Are you the heir to the Matlock family name and fortune? And have you been on this earth for seven and thirty years?' And of course his answer to all those questions was no. So I began again with then I am right in my knowledge that _Othello_ was indeed written by the masterful Byron."

Elizabeth only smiled and shook her head, no use in arguing with an imbecile. She really could not understand how she and Richard could be so different from her eldest brother. Perhaps it is the age gap she thought. Elizabeth had tuned out her brother's ramblings by now and focused her attention on observing people. It was one of her favorite pass times, observing people. She turned to her left to study a short woman of about three and forty. She was shorter than herself, with mousy light brown hair and beady eyes. Elizabeth thought she only missed two front teeth and rounded ears atop her head. She was overdressed in a yellow ball gown and decked in yellowing pearls. Yapping on about lace and Madam Rosette's new assistant to her daughter, who was a plumper version of her mother dressed to match. Across from her sat a man with red hair that was slowly receding, he was probably in his forties and was picking something out of his teeth. Elizabeth tried not to make a disgusted face, but she was thoroughly disgusted. Next to him sat his wife who was ogling the man next to her who had to be twenty years younger than herself. At the moment Elizabeth was looking at him he looked up from his plate towards her. He had blonde hair nicely swooshed to the side and trimmed cleanly. Bright blue eyes that reminded Elizabeth of the water. He caught her eye and Elizabeth blushed to have been caught staring. She looked down before looking back up at him and smiling. He turned towards Mrs. Stainton who had been flirting shamelessly with him and asked her a question. She looked confused at first and then angry before turning towards Elizabeth.

"Lady Elizabeth I would like to introduce you to Lord Moreton, Lord Morton Lady Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled at the man, "Tis a pleasure milord."

He stared back at Elizabeth unguardedly, "the pleasure is most assuredly mine."

Elizabeth could not help the heat that climb her neck reaching her ears.

"Lady Elizabeth I don't suppose you still have a dance free do you?"

Elizabeth looked at her card and indeed she did not, however she did not think her brother would mind giving up his dance with her. No doubt would her mother mind either. So crossing off Richard's name Elizabeth replied, "In fact I do, the last set I have free."

His blue eyes seemed to get bluer, "Splendid, I look forward to our dance."

"As do I milord."

 **A/N: TADA! Part one of the ball.** **So Darcy has been re-introduced, Elizabeth has some other man catch her eye and Caroline has come into play. FYI I hate Caroline she's so ridiculous, but she is really fun to write. Hopefully you liked it, it was a bit challenging to write however because I was trying to get Darcy's character right. He's hard to portray. Any suggestions are welcome and feedback it helps me know you guys like it or not. So next we meet Jane and Elizabeth dances with Darcy and Lord Morton fun fun.**

 **Much love ~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	5. Chapter 5

The Ball Part 2

Thomas was helping Elizabeth from her chair when Mr. Darcy appeared at her side. Elizabeth gasped, startled by his appearance and proximity.

"Mr. Darcy! You scared me half a fright."

Mr. Darcy tried and failed to keep a smile from his face, "do forgive me Lady Elizabeth." He bowed, "Shall we?" he indicated with his chin towards the ballroom, offering her his arm.

"Oh, yes of course, our dance."

Darcy's brows knit together in mocked offence, "why Lady Elizabeth did you forget our dance? You wound me."

Not appreciating being teased Elizabeth coldly replied, "No Mr. Darcy I did not forget."

Sobering at Elizabeth's reply Darcy only nodded and continued to lead her to the floor. "You look well Elizabeth." Darcy leaned closer towards her to whisper. Making her shiver as his hot breath warmed her neck and ear.

Elizabeth ignored the flutter her heart gave at hearing her given name upon his lips and turned cool eyes towards him. "Please sir you will refrain from using my Christian name without my consent."

Frowning, Darcy mumbled, "Forgive me."

Elizabeth only nodded as they separated to stand across from one another. The dance began with little conversation.

"We must converse about something Lady Elizabeth." Darcy urged. He would not let this dance, this extra time spent with her, go to waste.

"I think we are doing fine not conversing. If I remember you are rather good at ignoring people."

Darcy winced on the inside at her jab, he knew what he had done was wrong, but she wouldn't, couldn't understand.

"I fear I do not have the pleasure of understanding you milady. Prey elaborate."

Elizabeth scoffed, "How can you fail to understand. You purposely and willfully ignore people. Whether they be long-time friends or mere commoners. You Mr. Darcy and all your," she was stopped as they separated in the dance. She took a deep breath to control her ire.

"You were saying Lady Elizabeth?"

"How was university Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked all of a sudden.

"Fine, it was fine." Darcy shortly replied confused and sadden at her change in topic. The Elizabeth he had known would not have backed down from proving her point. She would have been shouting at him throughout the whole dance. Darcy loved the way her brown eyes lit up with this unexplained fire. It was often said the eyes were a window to the soul. That could not have been truer for Elizabeth, she wore her heart in her eyes.

The dance ended without any attempt on either side to reignite the conversation, and Darcy leading Elizabeth back towards her brother. However they were stopped by a friendly, blonde woman.

"Jane!" Elizabeth smiled, detaching herself from Mr. Darcy's arm and hugging her friend.

"Lizzy! Oh it is so good to see you again." Jane returned holding Elizabeth at arm's length to look at her. "My how you have grown, and gorgeous too!"

"Oh Jane do not be silly," Elizabeth replied brushing away the comment. Darcy frowned when she did this, he could not help but agree with this other woman and he thought Elizabeth should acknowledge it. She was beautiful, bewitching even. Darcy's thoughts were interrupted when a hand firmly grasped his forearm and attached itself. Looking down he saw Caroline simpering up at him.

"I see Darcy you have met my sister-in-law. Is she not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?" Caroline asked in what was meant to be mocking of her brother but came out more in jealousy.

"No Miss Bingley, I have yet to make her acquaintance," Darcy said clearing his throat.

Elizabeth noticing her rude behavior quickly turned around, "Oh do forgive me Mr. Darcy, it has been quite some time since I have seen my dear friend. Though I have kept in touch with her through letters." Elizabeth paused to gauge Mr. Darcy's reaction. He did not even flinch, narrowing her eyes she continued, "Mr. Darcy this is Mrs. Jane Bingley of Netherfield Hertfordshire, Jane this is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley Derbyshire."

Darcy briefly grasped her hand, "a pleasure madam."

"As well as you Mr. Darcy, my husband speaks of you often. I regret he is not with me at the moment. He is in search of his brother-in-law in the card room."

Darcy only nodded, standing there awkwardly as Elizabeth watched him and Jane then Caroline, who was still attached to his arm. Darcy trying, and failing to detach the vice grip she had.

"Might I escort you back to your brother Lady Elizabeth?" He asked in an attempt to have Elizabeth to himself once more, and rid himself of the brightly colored loon clamped to his arm.

Elizabeth frowned before a smile lit her features. Darcy couldn't help but smile back when she did, not realizing the smile was not for him.

"No need sir, for I am here to claim the Lady's hand for the next set."

"Lord Morton," Elizabeth smiled.

Darcy turned to see a man, perhaps two inches shorter than he, offer Elizabeth his arm. An unexplained bubbling boiled in Darcy's stomach. He knew Lord Moreton, they had been introduced at university. Both being in the same class, though Darcy never saw much of him as they frequented different groups.

"Lord Morton," Darcy bowed.

"Mr. Darcy, long time no see. How have you been?"

Darcy was about to answer when the music struck up once again. "Excuse us Mr. Darcy." Lord Morton smiled leading Elizabeth to the floor. Darcy stood staring after them trying not to scowl.

"Come Mr. Darcy, your face will stick like that if you continue to frown."

Despite that fact that it was Caroline who said this Darcy smiled. He remembered when Elizabeth used to say that to him.

Caroline smiled in turn at thinking she had caused the illustrious Mr. Darcy to smile. Caroline had not wanted to come tonight, to this specific ball. However Charles new wife seemed to have him under her pretty, little thumb and dragged them all along. Caroline was not stupid, she knew she was not the prettiest, most titled, most connected woman. Nevertheless she did know that she was not any of those things either. Caroline though liked to surround herself with unfortunate looking people and woman who had no taste. Therefor when standing in the group she was the most attractive and desirable person. Here, at this coming out ball, for a girl-though she could hardly be called that- who was well connected, beautiful, titled and had a fortune made Caroline decidedly uncomfortable. Caroline had heard of Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam, the _ton's_ tongues had been wagging since she stepped out of the carriage and up the steps of her home. Not only had Caroline had to listen to all the gossip but she also had to hear dear Janey go on and on about sweet, kind Elizabeth. It made Caroline sick, and even more sick to know that _her_ Darcy was making eyes at her. Along with every man here.

Caroline had set her eyes on Darcy when Charles first mentioned his name and their growing friendship. She had imagined time and again the story of how Mr. Darcy fell in love with his closest friend's sister. Even if it wasn't love she did not mind, as long as Darcy continued to be single there was hope he would grow restless and settle for her. Which she did not mind in the least if it meant being mistress of Pemberley and Darcy house. Caroline went to look over towards Darcy when she found he had walked away during her reminiscing's.

….

"Lady Elizabeth I heard you just arrived back from Italy? How did you like your time there?"

Elizabeth had been smiling at Lord Morton and there small talk, her face grew darker with the topic of her school. Trying to hide the fact, Elizabeth gave a small smile.

"It was, interesting. I missed my home land and family though. Seven years is a long time away from the ones you love."

Lord Morton looked confused for a moment before saying, "You did not visit them, or vice versa?"

Elizabeth blushed then stuttered before replying, "Yes well that is complicated. You see," Elizabeth paused as they separated from one another.

"You see, there was a bit of a complication with that. The whole visiting thing. Have you been to the continent?" Elizabeth asked trying to change the topic.

Lord Morton seeing he had made her uncomfortable answered in the affirmative. "Yes, after university my cousin and I toured the continent with my younger sister. She had been begging me to take her and my cousin, Miss Celia Hopwood, and I caved. I did enjoy it immensely. The different," he paused as they again separated.

"The different cultures had much to offer." He resumed, "And I found I prefer French cuisine over English cuisine. The first," He paused again. "The first thing I did when I arrived back home was hire a French cook. I'm surprised I still fit my old breeches now." He laughed making Elizabeth laugh.

Darcy watched on as the two danced, he had taken to clenching his fists and unclenching them. What was Morton saying to make her laugh and smile this much? Why is it she seems to be enjoying this dance more to theirs? Darcy shook his head, he knew the answer to that. 'Perhaps it was because they were having a conversation,' Darcy thought sarcastically. That seemed to make things more enjoyable.

"Darcy you seem to have taken to the same hobby as my sister. Find anything interesting in your perusal of the human species?"

"Hello Richard, and no I have not. Except that Morton seems to have gained weight I think." Darcy commented with an heir of indifference.

Richard laughed, "Yes I see two people who have caught your attention tonight, or more specifically one person. Who, might I add is unavailable."

"Richard," Darcy warned.

"Darcy I just can't see her get hurt again. You know what your uncle said, and I know what he said. I can't let her marry someone for those reasons. Granted I know a lot of woman do but not Elizabeth, not my dear little one. She's been through too much Darcy, and you have already hurt her. Don't do it again by giving her hope. She needs someone that can love her, someone who will give her a good home and stability. You may be able to provide the latter but not the former. And even if you could provide the former Darcy, which I know you could not, Elizabeth needs a fresh start. She needs someone who is new." Richard finished still not looking at Darcy.

"I agree Richard, Elizabeth deserves someone better." Darcy replied staring at the woman in question. How did Richard know he could not love Elizabeth? How did he know that what Elizabeth needed was a new start? What if what she really needed was familiar, something she grew up with? Darcy knew that school had hurt her, he knew they had squashed the joy in her, and what if she needed familiarity, an old friend to bring it back to her?

 **A/N: Hello wonderful people! I hope everyone is having or had a pleasant day! So I thought I had fixed my errors in the last chapters but I hadn't, but I have now so everything should be fixed.** **A reader pointed out to me I used miss, Lady Elizabeth, and then Lady Fitzwilliam and it was a lot. I apologize. As to Elizabeth's school, it's a fictional boarding school for fictional characters, if I want them to go for seven years and not visit their family or let them leave, I will. It's fanfiction I can make whatever I want happen. Thank you all so much for the reviews and favorites and follows, I reward you with chapter five. Enjoy and tell me what you think. I would LOVE suggestions and helpful criticism.**

 **Much Love ~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	6. Chapter 6

Elizabeth woke the next morn later than usual due to the late night she had. She had not gone to bed until two and had not fallen asleep until three. She had finished her dance with Lord Morton with a bright smile on her face and a blush crawling up her neck. She had dearly enjoyed her time with Lord Morton. He made her laugh, which she profoundly loved to do, he was amusing, entertaining, tall, handsome, and completely different from Mr. Darcy. Who-though she had tried her hardest- was the man she ended up thinking of last before sleep overtook her.

Yawning and ringing for her maid, Lucy, Elizabeth rose from her bed and walked to the window. Drawing the curtains and looking down on the bare streets of London. Elizabeth hated town, she had spent half her life before school in town and she had hated it then. She enjoyed the country air and scenery, it was refreshing. That was one aspect of school she _had_ enjoyed. Italy had these beautiful rolling hills and then flat plains. Green was the dominating color but not far behind it joined the orange of the sky at sunrise and set. And so diverse, go a little south and one would be at the ocean front. Watching the rolling wave's crash against brown sand. It was one of Elizabeth's favorite things to do.

Now in the mood to take a walk she had Lucy prepare her walking attire.

"Thank you Lucy," She smiled, as her maid twisted her hair into a ponytail that wrapped into a bun at the nape of her neck. Elizabeth walked down the stairs dressed in a simple country gown and pelisse.

"Good morning Stewart, are mother and father yet up?"

"No ma'am, they have yet to rise."

"Hm, ah well, I was leaving anyway. It is a sunny day out and I do not plan to waste it. Would you inform cook to pack me a picnic basket please. I rather think I will spend the day outside today."

"Yes ma'am," Stewart replied with a bow.

Elizabeth smiled and walked to the library to grab a book as well as her journal she had left there. She picked two, one full of Shakespeare's comedies and the other a book of sixteenth and seventeenth century verses. When she walked back into the hall a basket had been prepared for her and Stewart stood waiting to help her into her bonnet and gloves.

"Thank you Stewart, please inform my parents when they rise where I have gone."

"Of course ma'am." Stewart again bowed before opening the door for Elizabeth.

She stepped out and raised her face towards the sun sucking in a deep breath. It felt nice to be home once again here in England. Elizabeth smiled yet again and headed towards the park, Lucy trailing discreetly behind her as was custom. Elizabeth entered the park and found it still to be fairly deserted. She made her way through the short grass and "fashionable" parts towards a grove of trees. She had found a small pond when she was here with Jane as a child.

Laying out the blanket Elizabeth plopped herself down as lady like as she could, or cared to do and pulled out her journal and a few strawberries from the basket. Lucy had decided to go and sit a bit further away but still in sight and practice her reading. Elizabeth had been teaching her since she arrived home.

Elizabeth began to write with her graphite pencil and did not stop until she had captured every last detail of her surroundings.

 _Today, in London, England in the park it is sunny, warm, yet with a slight breeze to keep you cool. The sun has nowhere to hide as not a single cloud lay in the blue sky. The blue matches the color of thread on an infant's blanket. Light, and popping, and pleasing to the eyes. I am surrounded by green oak trees littering the green grass. The grass reaches past my knees when I walk through it. Wild flowers grow everywhere making the green pop with white and yellow. It looks almost magi…_

Elizabeth stopped mid-word as a horse approached her. Looking up she spotted a well-dressed man atop a black horse. Elizabeth could not tell who the man was as the sun blocked her view.

"Lady Elizabeth," the man spoke, hopping down from the horse and stepping closer. Elizabeth's breath caught, she knew that voice.

"Mr. Darcy," she replied, beginning to stand up.

"No, please stay seated. I did not mean to intrude."

Elizabeth bit her lip thinking of what to do. She could send him on his way saying she would proffer her solitude. However she did not think it would hurt to speak to him. He was a friend at some point and Elizabeth was curious about Georgiana; or so she convinced herself.

"Oh no, you are not intruding. I would actually enjoy the company." She smiled up at him.

Darcy could not believe his luck, he had left this morning with the intent of ridding Elizabeth from his mind. He had spent all of the night tossing, and turning, and thinking of the bewitching goddess of the ball. He knew he was not allowed anywhere near her. Strict orders from Richard, but Richard did not need to know of this chance encounter. Darcy was willing to be yelled at by the colonel if it meant time with Elizabeth. Though his original plan was to follow through on his promise to his closest friend, it looked like God had different plans for him. He tied his horse to one of the lower hanging branches of the oak tree and sat across from Elizabeth on the blanket she had spread out.

"I must apologize Mr. Darcy for last night. I acted most rudely, do forgive me. I confess last night was taxing." Elizabeth found herself apologizing. She had not meant to, but it slipped out. She could not bear the thought of Mr. Darcy thinking her rude. Especially when he had only been kind the night before.

Darcy smiled at her, she looked beautiful in the morning sunlight. It highlighted her brown curls prettily and made her pale skin glow. "No need to apologize milady, I completely understand." Darcy looked around and saw, sitting next to her was a book of Shakespeare's Comedies.

"You read Shakespeare milady?" Darcy asked trying to keep the surprise from his voice. He knew very few woman, if any at all, who read Shakespeare. If they did read they were novels, and rubbish ones at that. Georgiana read them, he knew because he purchased them for her all the time. Novels with damsels in distress and knights in shining armor rescuing them. Then again, Elizabeth was not-and never was- like other woman. It was refreshing, and made Darcy smile.

Elizabeth looked confused for a moment before looking down beside her journal, there beside it was one of the books she had taken with her.

"Oh, yes I do. I prefer his comedies to any of his other works. I suppose it's because I dearly love to laugh, they always seem to bring a smile to my face."

"May I ask which your favorite is?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, thinking. She knew this was a bad idea, she could already feel the knot her stomach was twisting itself into. Hesitantly she replied, "My favorite, though it has been argued to be one of his more serious comedies, is _Measure for Measure._ "

"Truly? Why Lady Elizabeth you surprise me."

Elizabeth gave a small chuckle, "And pray, why is that Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy lit up at her laugh, exactly how he remembered. "Well it is simply that Measure _for Measure,_ is referred to as a "dark" comedy or "problem play," it is amusing however for that one to be your favorite. Bringing to light you just said you loved His comedies for the purpose of laughing. Would you care to elaborate as to why?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows furrowed together as she contemplated her reasons. "Hmm, I suppose it's because He, Shakespeare, try's to show how even in something make believe tragic things can still occur. I often ponder the thought process of it all, you see some believe the play to be one deemed as a religious play. A Christian Allegory, Isabella represents man's soul whereas Lucio, represents a faulty Satan. However if you see it as a religious play than the whole of the meaning, and the idea that it is a comedy is lost. It makes me laugh at the irony of it all." Elizabeth looked up to meet Mr. Darcy's awed gaze, though she mistook it for one of disdain and shock.

A blush climbed her neck as she looked back down at her hands. "I fear I must go Mr. Darcy. I promised to accept a call from Lord Morton this afternoon. Please excuse me," she asked, mistaking his silence for disapproval. Lucy walked over and began hurriedly helping her pack her things up. Mr. Darcy stood up in a haze.

He had been so captured by the intelligent glint in Elizabeth's eyes when she spoke, he had not realized she had stopped speaking. Now as she packed her things he was shocked, hurt, and riddled with jealousy directed towards Lord Morton. He retrieved his wits just as Elizabeth was walking away.

"Lady Elizabeth, wait!" He shouted, jogging towards her. "Forgive me, but I was hoping you would grant me the permission to call on you as well, sometime?"

Elizabeth gasped at the hopeful look in his eyes, turning from him, she gave a small, "No." Swallowing her sudden emotions she continued, "No, I do not believe that to be a good idea. Please excuse me." She turned and walked as fast as she could while still being in the realms of good manners.

Darcy stared after her, dejected and feeling somehow broken. He did not understand what it is he did wrong. He thought things had been going well, what happened? Forlornly he hopped up on his horse and rode at a steady pace back to his home.

Elizabeth did not stop walking, nor slow down till she reached her chambers. Once safely hidden behind the grand walls, and French doors she collapsed. Gasping for breath as she let a stream of tears fall from her eyes. Her one hope, one achievement was to show him how she had changed, how she had become the young lady he wanted; and she had failed. She could see it in his piercing brown eyes, the disparagement, the criticism, the hopelessness. She could not handle it, she had spent seven years trying to become what he wanted, and now, now what was she to do. Was it all for not? Was it all a waste? Was it all in vain? Was the only hope she had during those long years gone? She could not bear to be around him much less see him. She needed to keep things how they ended back when she was fourteen. It would only serve to hurt her if she opened old wounds. Drying her eyes and pulling herself together she walked to the drawing room.

There she was met by her mother and Lord Morton. She sighed, she really was in no mood for his company at the moment.

"Lady Elizabeth," he bowed taking her hand.

"Lord Morton," she curtsied before they both sat down. Her by her mother, and him across from her in a high backed chair.

"Shall I ring for tea?" Lady Eleanor asked, looking between the two. She could see Lord Morton was quite taken with her only daughter, however she did not feel her daughter reciprocated the feelings. Oh well, she thought, with time perhaps things will change. It has only been one night, she agreed with herself.

"Tea would be lovely mother, thank you. Lord Morton I did not expect you so soon." Elizabeth said looking over at the man in question.

"Forgive me if I am imposing, I will depart if now is not a welcomed time." He replied, though he did not at all look apologetic, nor in a rush to leave.

"Not at all milord," her mother replied for her as she again took her seat beside Elizabeth.

"Lady Elizabeth I was wondering, that is, have you yet been to the opera?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows rose in surprise, "no, I have not yet had the chance. I have now only been home a week and three days."

"Would you and your family of course," he smiled at Lady Eleanor, "Care to accompany me this Friday night?"

"Oh we would love too!" Her mother answered, yet again for her, before Elizabeth could reply.

"Lady Elizabeth?" Lord Morton urged, wanting to receive her blessing as well.

Elizabeth tried to refrain from sighing, it was not that she did not want to go, nor did she particularly dislike the company. It was however that she simply did not have the heart. She could not possibly back out now that her mother had agreed, it would be horribly rude. "I accept your offer milord."

Lord Morton's face lit up, "Wonderful! You will have a chance to meet my sister and cousin as well. I think the three of you shall get along nicely."

Elizabeth smiled, although it did not reach her eyes. Which her mother was beginning to realize as a reoccurring theme.

 **A/N: You guys are so amazing! Thank you for the follows, faves, and reviews. They make my day, you have no idea. So things will pan out with time, I'm still trying to set the scene a bit. Tell me what you liked and did not like, I would love to know. Also though my account is set with U.S. time and date I live in Europe so I am a few hours ahead of you North American readers. Just so you guys are aware. Tell me what you think, your reviews help me to keep going and fix things that need to be fixed, as well as what I should continue doing.**

 **Much love ~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy had ridden at a leisurely pace towards his London home, his thoughts directed towards Elizabeth when they turned towards his sister. His poor Georgiana, in all honesty he had left, not because of her dire condition, but because he felt he had failed. Now the only way he could fix his mistakes was to marry, and soon. His Uncle Stephen Darcy, his father's younger brother, was the only other person besides Mrs. Annesley, Mrs. Reynolds, Richard, Georgiana and himself who knew about it. It was he who convinced Darcy what he needed to do. Darcy always knew he would have to marry out of a sense of duty. However, this was not what he had in mind.

Darcy shook his head of the grey thoughts and dismounted once he reached the stables. Patting his horse once more before handing him over to the stable hand. If only Richard would let him show him how much he really cared for Elizabeth perhaps? He questioned to himself, but no, she deserved better. Elizabeth had already been through so much, it would not be fair to put her through something such as this. Especially after what he did to her, he could not ask her to let him into her life again. He realized he had hurt her…deeply, but it was for her own good. Darcy knew she was still upset, and why wouldn't she be? He knew because she had more than hinted at it the night of the ball. He had wanted her to call him out on his misdeeds and yet he did not. He felt she deserved an explanation and yet not: he did not want to wound her more than he already had.

Again, Darcy shook his head of the plaguing thoughts.

"Mr. Darcy, a Colonel Fitzwilliam is waiting in the study." Mrs. Hapkee informed him.

"Thank you, please see it that we are not disturbed."

"Of course sir," she curtsied and walked away.

Darcy, wondering over what Richard could want, made his way to his study. He had to laugh at how at home the good colonel always made himself. Sitting, feet propped on his desk, was Richard, hands tucked behind his head.

"Richard, I see you made yourself comfortable."

"Indeed, I have though I refrained from pouring myself a drink. Thought I'd let the host take the reins on that one. Brandy will do fine, thank you."

Darcy shook his head, walking towards the decanter full of brandy. "Why is it you are here, Richard?" Darcy asked setting the glass down on the desk and walking over to the window with his own.

"Come now, Darcy. Can not a friend visit a friend without there having to be a reason?"

"Of course, though that is not the case."

Richard smirked, "Ah, right you are, Darcy. You see, I realize I was a bit harsh the other night. I know you and Lizzy were close as children, almost as close as you and I. It was cruel on my part to make you refrain from seeing her now that she is back. You must know my hesitations."

"I fully respect your authority over your sister, Richard. I would do the same for Georgiana hell, I am, aren't I?"

Richard winced at Darcy's venomous tone when he mentioned Georgiana. "Darcy," Richard began walking over towards his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Everything will turn out; you will find someone within the required three months. Look at you, Darcy, you're a catch," Richard chuckled when he scowled. "What girl wouldn't want you? Besides, you have money as well, that has to count for something."

Richard felt bad for his longtime friend, but it was not uncommon in these days to marry for convenience. Most people did not marry for love, strictly for benefits. What could they get out of it? Hell, Richard himself would have to marry for benefits. He was the second son of an Earl; he had done fairly well for himself but, he would still need to marry an heiress.

"Thank you, Richard, I know you are right. Some floozy woman will take me, even under the circumstances."

"Perhaps Caroline Bingley was not wrong in setting her hopes on you?" Richard teased laughing at Darcy's look of disgust.

"Was that all you needed, Richard? Not that this conversation has not been beneficial, but I have business I must attend to."

Richard took a gulp of his brandy, sighing at the burn in his throat. "Actually, Darcy, there was something else. When I took leave from the war front, I hoped it would be for a time. My commanding officer said he could find me a spot in the war office. With Lizzy back home and all, I had hoped to be her guardian of sorts. Especially now as father grows older and Thomas has his own family to look after. In spite of all this, it was not meant to be. I will be leaving for the front again in a month. I had hoped. Darcy, that you could look after my dear little one? I realize it's a lot to ask, and I would understand in light of things. Your situation is far worse than watching over Lizzy, but-" Richard stopped as Darcy cut him off.

"I would be honored to, Richard." Darcy could not help his increased heart rate. Richard was asking him to watch over Elizabeth. It brought him back to when they were children. Elizabeth would hide behind Darcy's tall frame from Richard as he would advance on them both, wooden sword in hand. Elizabeth would taunt Richard from behind him, and then shy away when he got closer. He even chuckled at the memory of a nine-year-old Elizabeth racing up to him after she had hurt herself.

 _"_ _Darcy! Darcy!" Elizabeth called._

 _Darcy turned from where he was fishing by himself to see Elizabeth running towards him. He could see her left elbow held in her right hand._

 _"_ _Elizabeth?" he questioned as she drew closer. She continued to run towards him until they were face to face. He could see her brown eyes filled with unshed tears. "Elizabeth, whatever is the matter?"_

 _She gasped, and then sniffed, trying not to cry. "I tripped and scraped my elbow," she paused uncovering her elbow and lifting it for him to see. "See," she showed him wiping at her eyes._

 _Darcy smiled at her, "Come and sit over here, I'll help you."_

 _Elizabeth followed Darcy to the edge of the creek where he had been fishing and sat down in the grass. Legs tucked neatly under her, Darcy lifted her elbow for closer examination. Elizabeth had a deep gash running from the top of her elbow to the bottom._

 _"_ _Hmm," he said before digging in his coat for his handkerchief. He dipped part of it in the cool creek water and turned back to her. "This might sting a little."_

 _Gently he dabbed at her elbow, Elizabeth let out a little hiss at the sting. "I did warn you," he smiled._

 _She looked up at him smiling back, "Yes I know, but that does not make it hurt less."_

 _"_ _Yes I know," he teased back. Once the flow of blood had stopped, and it was cleaned of dirt, he pressed the dry side of the handkerchief on the wound._

 _"_ _It still hurts, but not as much," Elizabeth told him as she looked at her elbow and back at him._

 _"_ _Well," Darcy thought for a moment before proceeding. "My mother always used to kiss my ouches when I was a child. Perhaps that will help?"_

 _Elizabeth laughed at the word 'ouches' coming from Darcy's mouth but smiled. She could feel a pink blush tinting her cheeks. "You could try, I suppose. I do not think it would make it hurt any worse," She replied looking at her lap._

 _Darcy smiled before removing the 'kerchief and leaning closer to her elbow. He looked at her once again before planting a soft kiss on the offended area. Elizabeth sucked in a breath at the feel of Darcy's breath on her elbow before his lips touched her already heated skin. She blushed even deeper, again looking at her lap._

 _Darcy pulled away smiling, "Better?" he asked._

 _"_ _Much," she smiled back. "Thank you, Fitzy."_

 _Darcy laughed at the nickname and looked at the joyful girl across from him._

"Thank you, old man, this, it means very much to me. I now can leave knowing my dear little one is in good hands. Someone I can trust." Richard finished, giving Darcy a pointed look before finishing his brandy.

"Of course! Richard, you may count on me."

 **A/N: Oh my goodness, 162 follows! I had never expected to even reach 100. THANK YOU! I know this is a bit shorter than my last chapters, but I whipped this up to thank you for all the follows. You guys did receive some fluff as an extra bonus. I know this whole thing is kind of long winded but just stick with me, it will get better, and everything will fall into place. It just takes time. Also, thanks for the reviews they make my day, I read every single one. I go back and fix what needs to be fixed except the heir air thing because I was too lazy to go search for where I used it (HAHA) but for future reference I will make sure it is correct, thank you. Please tell me what you guys think so far. It really does help me. Hope everyone has or had a great day!**

 **Much love ~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	8. Chapter 8

**Huge thanks to my beta LMFG for making this readable (: Seriously so amazing!**

 **Chapter Eight**

Come Friday Elizabeth's mood had risen, and she very much looked forward to the opera. Lord Morton had come to call two more times during the week, and Elizabeth found with each time a flutter went through her stomach. It turned out Lord Morton loved the outdoors, and when he must be confined to the house would take up reading poetry and verses. One of Elizabeth's favorite things to read, she told him as much afterwards.

She had also learned that his sister, Lady Gabriella Morton, was an accomplished drawer. He had told her after he begged to read one of her journal entries. He said his sister could draw an accompaniment to her writings. Though, at first, she was not keen of the idea, it began to grow on her. She supposed it could not hurt to allow her to draw one of her less personal entries. The more Elizabeth thought of it, the more she thought she would like that very much, indeed.

"My dear little one, I have been looking for you."

Elizabeth looked up from her book to see her brother walking towards her. An inevitable smile crawled up her lips. "Richard, what may I do for you?"

Richard returned the smile easily and sat next to his sister, grasping her hand. "Elizabeth, there is something I need to speak to you about."

Elizabeth's care free expression changed to one of concern and confusion. "Is everything alright, Richard? Are you alright?"

"I am being sent back to the front, Lizzy," Richard spit out, not one to beat around the bush with his sister.

Elizabeth was tired of crying, she did not understand how she could possibly still have tears to cry. Her pillow, for seven years, was always damp with her tears, it was not possible she could still have tears. Her eyes had to be dry, Elizabeth was tired of it. She did not like how the salty tears felt rushing down her face. Ending on her nose and running down to her lips or simply falling to her lap. Elizabeth took in a deep breath and willed herself not to cry. Looking up and fluttering her eyes before turning towards her beloved brother.

"Why?" was her only reply as she looked to see a distraught Richard.

"Elizabeth, you know I do not have control over these things. I only obey the orders of my commanding officer. He needs me at the front, I do not want to go, my dear little one. Trust me, I want to stay here with you, be your protective big brother, but duty calls. I have asked Darcy to stand in my place when I leave."

Elizabeth shook her head, the tears she had forced to stay were dangerously close to falling. She began to laugh instead, she was laughing so hard her stomach hurt, and she was gasping for breath. This was simply her luck. Her brother leaves, and now she was forced into the company of the one man she wished to be gone. Couldn't Richard and Darcy switch places? Why him? Why anyone? 'I can take care of myself,' Elizabeth thought.

"Lizzy? Lizzy, are you alright?" Richard asked, placing his hand on her shoulder trying to calm her hysteria.

She gave one last chuckle, "Fine, I am fine. Richard, I think I may go rest. What you told me … was a lot. We go to the opera tonight, and I need to gain control over myself and my thoughts. Excuse me."

Richard cleared his throat, "Of course."

Elizabeth gave a slight smile before standing up and leaving. Richard watched as she walked away.

"Where have you gone, my dear little one?" Richard asked the empty room.

…

As Elizabeth sat in her chambers later that evening preparing herself for the opera, she could not help but notice how skinny she had gotten. Her face had taken a shallow look to it, and under her eyes was a purple color. It did not look well with the red and puffiness of her eyes as well. Lucy had already taken in two of her dresses, and her corset was now pulled a tad tighter. Her lips looked thin, almost too thin, she thought she could see frown lines forming around them. She sighed, this had not happened all at once. Elizabeth had slowly been deteriorating for some time now, it was now, however, that she could notice.

Elizabeth sighed before having Lucy cover her face in a pearl powder*, cover her lips in a beeswax tinted by crushed flowers*, and discreetly line her eyes with eye paint*, finishing it with beeswax to her lashes*.

Elizabeth turned back towards the mirror only to see a woman she no longer recognized. Gone was the happy disposition of an ignorant child, content in her ways. Now sat a woman with a crushed spirit, who had her heart broken too many times. A woman who had went through more pain than was normal for any woman her age, both mentally and physically.

Lucy began braiding various pieces of her hair and pinning them in a swirl sort of shape before finishing it off with a bun that had the ends of her curls poking out. A bright purple, jeweled ornament topping the hairstyle off and matching her gown. The room was so silent Elizabeth could hear the 'swoosh' her gown made as she rose from her seat. The fabric brushing the floor, Elizabeth's gown was long and full, a lavender color, weaved together in a cream color, combined to make her look like a flower she mused. 'A very sad flower, indeed,' she bitterly laughed to herself.

Elizabeth gave up a long time ago caring about wallowing in self-pity, it provided a place for her dark thoughts to form and come forth. Elizabeth thought if they did not go somewhere she might one day cease to exist. Simply die from the contained thoughts and feelings. Elizabeth thought she deserved a bit of self-pity. Trying as she might to bring a smile to her lips, it formed more into a grimace. 'Oh, well,' she thought, 'I tried.'

"Lady Elizabeth, Lord Morton has arrived." Lucy spoke softly, alerting Elizabeth from her saddening thoughts.

"Yes, of course, thank you, Lucy. You have again worked wonders with my hair and face." She smiled kindly at her maid.

Lucy dipped a short curtsy, "Thank you, ma'am."

Elizabeth walked from her room and down the stairs, remembering the last time she had walked these steps all dressed up. The last time she had butterflies flying in her stomach at the thought of seeing Darcy again. Thoughts of Darcy inadvertently led to memories; before long, she was thinking of the last time Darcy had stayed at their London home.

 _Elizabeth sat in the library reading a book that far surpassed her age's capability, not for her, though. She did fine reading the larger words and comprehending the meaning the best she could. She was reading a book of verses._

 _She had read almost every poem in the book, however, the one her eyes skimmed now was her favorite. Not realizing it, she brought her thumb to her teeth, chewing on the nail as she read._

 _'_ _Come all you very merry London Girls, that are disposed to travel,_

 _There is a Voyage now at hand, will save your feet from gravel._

 _If you have shoes, you need not fear for wearing out the Leather;_

 _For why, you shall on shipboard go, like loving Rogues together.*'_

 _Elizabeth began to think about how shortly she would be upon a ship, heading out of London on her own adventures. It was quite nerve-racking and yet extremely exciting. Elizabeth looked up from her musings and readings to find Darcy sitting across from her, staring._

 _"_ _How long have you been there, Fitzy?"_

 _"_ _Not long, long enough to see you bite your thumb nail in concentration."_

 _Elizabeth's eyes widened, "Please, do not tell Mother, it was an honest mistake."_

 _Darcy smirked at the pleading look in Elizabeth's eyes. "I won't tell."_

 _Elizabeth audibly let out a sigh of relief._

 _"_ _In exchange for your treat after supper." Darcy smiled the slightest._

 _"_ _Well, Fitzy, you play dirty, alright, my treat in exchange for your silence."_

 _"_ _Deal, pleasure doing business with you, Elizabeth, dear."_

 _They sat in silence for a few moments._

 _"_ _Darcy?"_

 _Darcy looked up from his book at the sound of his surname._

 _"_ _Yes, Elizabeth," he prompted._

 _Elizabeth fidgeted for a moment, staring at her hands. "Well," she began then licked her lips. "You see, I leave for school soon and … well … I am sort of ..., Darcy, I'm scared."_

 _Darcy had been amused at the girl's mutterings until she finally worked up the nerve to say what was on her mind. His face grew darker, and he moved over towards her on the two-seater. Without thought, he took her hand and waited for her to look at him._

 _"_ _Elizabeth, there is no reason for you to be scared. You are the brightest, happiest, loveliest young lady I know. You have nothing to worry about. You are going to go to your new school and learn a great many things, which I know you love to do, and when you return I'll be here waiting, ready to listen to everything you learned and experienced."_

 _Elizabeth was brimming on tears as she looked at Darcy, "Thank you, Fitzy. May I, do you think, perhaps I may write you? I know it is not common, nor proper really, it's just, Darcy, you are like a brother to me, and I would be heartbroken if I could not write Richard."_

 _"_ _Of course, Elizabeth, that's why I would not let you leave without my express permission and promise to write. We will keep it our secret, however."_

 _"_ _Oh, thank you, Fitzy!" Elizabeth exclaimed jumping into Darcy's surprised arms._

Elizabeth laughed crisply. 'As if it all happened in some mad dream, I am surely losing my mind,' she thought, finishing her descent down the stairs.

"Lady Elizabeth," Lord Morton bowed over her hand, raising it for a light kiss to her gloved knuckles.

"Lord Morton, thank you for the invitation once again tonight. It is my family's and my pleasure to accompany you. My parents should be down shortly. Would you like to wait in the drawing room?"

"Lead the way, Lady Elizabeth," he smiled at her.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, walking towards the drawing room. Upon arrival, she rang for tea and sat on the settee, Lord Morton sitting beside her. Perhaps closer than propriety allowed, though, he did not seem bothered.

"How do you fair, Lady Elizabeth, since I last saw you?"

Pouring the tea and adding cream to his and sugar to hers, she answered, "Well, and you?"

"Better, now that I have the pleasure of your company. My sister is quite excited to make your acquaintance."

"I look forward to making her acquaintance as well. Have you read anything new recently?"

"No, I admit I am still reading Shakespeare's comedy _A Midsummer Night's Dream._ "

"Oh," was all Elizabeth returned.

Lord Morton suddenly thinking he had displeased her somehow continued. "Yes, you see it is rather hard to grasp. I find the whole play rather silly. It is ridiculous, really, if one thinks of it. Shakespeare makes it quite clear that love can overcome all obstacles, however, we all know that that in of itself is quite comical."

"I suppose," is all Elizabeth gave. She had learned a long while ago that there was no use in arguing her point of view of things. She had the scars on her palms to remind her a lady keeps quiet, a lady does not talk back, a lady agrees with the gentlemen no matter the circumstance.

However, if Elizabeth was to reply, she would have heatedly disagreed. Her parents finally joined them, and Lord Morton led the way to his carriage. Elizabeth's mother all but pushing her into the young Lord's lap as they were seated next to one another.

Upon arriving at the opera house, Elizabeth was escorted on the arm of Lord Morton to his family's box. Lady Eleanor could not help but smile widely at the scene they were causing. Elizabeth being led on the Lord's arm towards his box to meet his sister. She could hardly contain her excitement, this in of itself was enough of an announcement of the Lord's intentions.

"Walter, do you not realize what Lord Morton is doing?" Lady Eleanor all but squealed.

Patting his wife's hand, he turned an amused smirk towards her, "No, my dear, what is he doing?"

"Oh, Walter! He is discreetly testing the waters, but it is more than likely that our Lizzy will have a courtship before the beginning of the new week."

"Do not count your chickens before they hatch, Eleanor, but I think it is safe to say you are right."

"Oh! So you will say 'yes' then, Walter? Our Lizzy not yet three weeks out and already has a suitor. I think that sending her to that school was the best idea you have had, yet. Especially after how our dear Thomas ended up. Such a handsome young man but terribly stupid, and our Richard, now that is a case where life has been unfair. He would have been a much better viscount and earl, but our Elizabeth, Walter, we went right with that one."

"I could not agree with you more, my dear. Though, it was hard to send her away, one must make sacrifices for the ones they love. I remember quite clearly you did not wish her to go away."

"Yes, and now I see I was wrong." Lady Eleanor sniffed, sparing a quick glance at her husband. "Oh, don't look so smug."

The Earl only laughed, once again patting his wife's hand.

Lord Morton led Elizabeth proudly into his family box, highly aware of the attention they were receiving. It was practically a sure thing that Elizabeth would now be his. That short walk might as well have been banns being read in church. No one would go up against a Lord, especially not when it pertained to the Morton family line. No, Elizabeth was as good as his without the official announcement. 'Though' he thought, 'that won't be long.'

"Lady Elizabeth, might I introduce you to my sister, Lady Gabriella Morton. Sister, Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam of Matlock."

The girls curtsied to one another, "A pleasure, Lady Morton, your brother speaks highly of you."

The girl smiled, showing perfect white teeth, "The pleasure is all mine, I have been wanting to meet the woman my brother talks relentlessly of." She then smirked at her brother, who was scowling.

Elizabeth could feel the beginnings of a blush, "I highly doubt that, my lady," she murmured.

"Though, I hate to be caught, she speaks the truth, Lady Elizabeth." Lord Morton smiled before introducing his sister to her parents.

"Here I am, do not forget me, dear cousin. I left for a quick trip to powder my nose. Well, Christopher, you forgot to mention how beautiful she is. Must have slipped your mind when you rambled on about her personality and charm."

Lord Morton laughed, "Forgive me, Celia, I will do better next time. Lady Elizabeth, my cousin, Miss Celia Hopwood. Celia, Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam of Matlock."

"'Tis a pleasure, my lady, I have been looking forward to meeting you since Christopher here returned from the ball. He was caught in a daydream for the rest of the night and a good portion of the morning."

"Ha, ha, Celia, quite amusing."

Lord Morton gave Elizabeth an apologetic look, she smiled in return.

"The same to you, Miss Hopwood, your cousin spoke of you often. Though, I think it is a flaw in his character to mention beauty, for he did not tell me how beautiful his sister and you are. I feel sorely out of place." Elizabeth laughed at her own critique in her character.

"Not possible, Lady Elizabeth, please take a seat, the opera is about to begin. We may talk come break, perhaps Celia will tone down her dramatics." Lord Morton shot a glare at his cousin, who only smiled in return.

Miss Hopwood was quite beautiful, and Elizabeth had not been lying about feeling out of place. Miss Hopwood had ginger blonde hair piled atop her heart shaped face. Not a freckle dusted her face, and she had thick red eyelashes framing her popping blue eyes. A small nose, full lips, and perfectly trimmed eyebrows. She was dressed in a deep purple gown, making Elizabeth's lavender one look washed out compared to hers. The dress obviously showed her very small waist and plentiful chest.

Though younger than Miss Hopwood, Gabriella Morton was just as gorgeous, with blonde hair like her brothers and the same blue eyes. Realizing this, Elizabeth thought it must be a family trait.

 **A/N: THANKS SO MUCH TO MY BETA, LMFG, AGAIN FOR EDITING THIS!**

 **Hi lovely people! I hope everyone is having a blessed day! Thank you so very much for the reviews, follows, and faves, they keep me going. You should all be proud of me for this is my longest chapter yet, you are welcome. So you met Lord Morton's cousin and sister, got more insight on Elizabeth's parents thought process. They totally thought what they were doing was a good thing. Elizabeth just might not have told them the whole story. EVERYTHING WILL BE EXPLAINED. Be patient with me please. FYI the Bingley's (including Jane) won't be in the story much. Maybe a reference to them here or there.**

 **BIG THANK YOU as well to EvelynRo for helping correct my horrible grammar in chapter 7, so thank you so very much!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to my amazing beta, LMFG, for making this easier to read!**

 **Chapter Nine**

"How did you find the first act, Lady Elizabeth?" Lord Morton turned to ask.

"I have enjoyed it exceedingly! I read the novel this opera is based on not too long ago. I enjoyed the book then as well. Have you read _Pamela?"_ Elizabeth asked in return to his question.

"I have not, however, I have seen this opera more than once. My cousin, sister, and I had the privilege of seeing it performed in Italy when we traveled the continent. You went to school in Italy, did you not?"

Elizabeth's face fell, "Yes, I did."

Lord Morton did not notice and continued, "You must have heard of it before then, yes?"

"Yes, hence the reason I read _Pamela,_ it was considered improper for the ladies of the school to be out when not under guardianship. I did not have many visitors, so I never had the chance to see it performed before now. The mistresses were not allowed to escort us to such things."

"I see, well, I must say I enjoy it far more this time than when I saw it the last three times. The company is far better, Lady Elizabeth." Lord Morton smiled before boldly grasping her hand.

Elizabeth was about to exclaim about the impropriety of such a bold move when her brother walked into the box.

"Forgive my tardiness, I was held up at the war office. Mother, Father," Richard bowed to them before making his way over to his sister.

Lord Morton looked aggravated, but it quickly dissipated as Elizabeth smiled.

"Lord Morton, I hope you do not mind that I decided to join. Elizabeth did say you invited the family." He said, chancing a wink at his little sister.

"Of course! I am glad you could make it, please, allow me to introduce my sister and cousin. My sister, Lady Gabriella Morton, and my cousin, Miss Celia Hopwood."

"Lady Morton," Richard bowed, "Miss Hopwood."

"Sister, Celia, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Colonel." Miss Hopwood returned after her curtsy. Lady Morton repeating the actions.

Elizabeth noticed Richard's lingering gaze on the latter and smiled. She knew her brother always had a sore spot for blondes.

"Oh, Richard, I am so happy you came!"

"I would not miss quality time with my dear little one. What have I missed so far?" Richard asked, taking a seat beside Elizabeth, smirking when Lord Morton scowled.

"Nothing too important, Richard, besides I wrote to you about _Pamela,_ the Opera _La_ _buona figliuola_ is based on the book. They have the same idea, therefore, it will not be hard for you to follow."

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth beamed up at her older brother. Elizabeth loved Richard, he had been her rock over the years, always trying to show her the up side of things. When Elizabeth went away to school and Darcy did not write back, Richard consoled her. Telling her things such as, 'his loss little one,' or, 'he simply could not handle the amazing young lady you are,' and, 'men are intimidated by beautiful woman' .

She always laughed at the latter one, but it was her favorite. The one she told herself over and over again.

"Lady Elizabeth, I heard you are quite the writer, or so my cousin tells me. What is it you write?" Miss Hopwood questioned.

"Oh," Elizabeth stuttered, caught off guard by the question. "Well, I mostly write about the things around me. Nature mostly, I love the outdoors. Before I left for school, the drawing master my parents had hired would become so aggravated with me that she ended up suggesting writing. When I continued on to school, instead of drawing, I wrote," Elizabeth stopped, taking a deep breath. "My drawing teacher at school was the same. Only she still forced me to draw, my canvas was always hidden in the back," Elizabeth chuckled. "Anyway, I took up writing the scenes because they presented the same picture only in one's mind. I also found it fascinating how two people could read the same words, and yet they could picture two completely different scenes."

Everyone was now looking at Elizabeth as she finished. Elizabeth unconsciously bit her lower lip. She hurried on, thinking of her headmistress, and what she said of outspoken young ladies.

"Forgive me, that was improper, I should -," she was cut off by Miss Hopwood, however.

"Do not apologize, Lady Elizabeth. That was simply beautiful, you most certainly do have a way with words, Lady Elizabeth," Miss Hopwood smiled.

"That was amazing, Eliz – uh – Lady Elizabeth." Lord Morton uttered, staring in awe. Richard did not miss the blush that climbed his sister's face as she ducked her head.

"Thank you, my lord."

Lord Morton continued to stare at Elizabeth until the bell rung, signaling the second act. Richard stayed beside his sister, taking Lord Morton's seat, who in turn sat next to his cousin and sister in the second row. Leaving Elizabeth's and Richard's parents in the last row. Lady Eleanor was perfectly content with this arrangement during the first act. It had given her a perfect view of Lord Morton and Elizabeth. Who, she was happy to report, had stared at her daughter the whole time. Not once did the young Lord's gaze leave Elizabeth. Now Richard had come and ruined everything, Lady Eleanor scowled at her second son.

"Eleanor, I can feel you seething. Whatever is the matter?" the Earl asked.

"Richard is ruining everything!" she yelled in a whisper.

"Dear, I think you are overreacting. Look, Lord Morton is still staring at her - if that is what you were upset about." The Earl laughed at his own comment, and it was true. Lord Morton still continued to stare at Elizabeth, quite intently. The Earl was surprised his daughter could not feel his gaze.

"No, Walter, that is not why I am upset. Richard walked in right as Lord Morton was about to ask Lizzy something."

"Oh, no! Not the notorious 'something'," Walter chuckled, Eleanor lightly swatting his arm.

The visit to opera ended with idle talk and chatter, pleasantries exchanged between the new acquaintances, and an invitation to Fitzwilliam Manor two nights from now.

"Good night, Lady Elizabeth." Lord Morton whispered against her hand. Her parents already within the house, playing ignorant. He brought her hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon her knuckles.

Elizabeth's breath caught at the look in his eyes, "Good night, my lord," she breathed back.

Letting go of her hand at the last moment, Elizabeth turned full around, walking inside the house. Lord Morton watched as she left before climbing into his carriage.

Elizabeth did not turn around till she reached her chambers, watching out her window as Lord Morton's carriage drove away. Elizabeth liked Lord Morton, quite a lot, but not in the way it was expected of her. 'Perhaps with time?' She thought to herself.

…..

Darcy was to dine with the Fitzwilliam's tonight, as a means to reconnect after his parents' death. The Fitzwilliam's had, of course, tried to take the young man under their wing after their death, being all but their adopted third son, the two families being extremely close with the other. One could go as far as to say they were closer than most related families were. However, Darcy had pushed everyone away when his parents died. He had even pushed Georgiana away, he now blamed that for the chain of events it led up to. Not only had he almost lost Georgiana and had cause this disastrous calamity, but he also had pushed away the one thing he had loved the most. However, that he had done even before his parents' death. Darcy now simply used it as an excuse to cover his guilt and regret.

Upon realizing that he had been staring at the parchment in front of him for the past twenty minutes, Darcy stood from his chair and walked to the window. 'Elizabeth,' he smiled at the sound of the familiar name in his head. How he loved that name, so strong and gentle at the same time, just like the woman.

 _"_ _You are doing that wrong," Darcy told her, watching with amusement._

 _Elizabeth had her tongue poking out in concentration, trying to hop up onto the horse like her brother had._

 _"_ _I am not! This is how Richard did it." Elizabeth hotly replied._

 _"_ _Yes, and Richard is a good deal taller than you and, might I add, a man."_

 _Elizabeth gasped, "Well, what does that have to do with it? Hm? I can do everything you two can, thank you."_

 _Darcy cocked a brow, eyeing her dress, "Then, please, proceed."_

 _Elizabeth turned back to the task at hand, placing a foot in the stirrups, and hopping up and down to gain leverage. After a couple of hops, she tried to sling her leg over but in the same motion fell down, Darcy rushing to her side._

 _"_ _Elizabeth, are you alright?"_

 _Elizabeth brushed him off, "Get off of me! I can handle myself, if you please."_

 _Darcy stood back up and walked over towards the wall, leaning against it as he watched her. "Fine, my lady," he mumbled._

 _Sighing, Elizabeth stood up and brushed herself off. "I think I will go walking instead, this horse obviously does not want me to ride it."_

 _Darcy covered his laugh with a cough, she turned to glare at him._

 _"_ _Do you mind if I accompany you?" he asked, further covering his amusement._

 _"_ _No; unless you are going to tease and be rude to me, then yes."_

 _"_ _I will be a perfect gentleman."_

 _Elizabeth nodded before walking out of the stables, Darcy by her side._

A knock at the study door broke Darcy from his memories.

"Yes, what is it?"

Mrs. Hapkee poked her head around the door, once spotting her master, she let herself in and curtsied. "Sir, you have morning callers. A Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, as well as a Miss Bingley."

Darcy groaned, it was not that he minded Bingley's company, he rather enjoyed it. His sister was an entirely different matter. She was the complete opposite of anything Darcy ever wanted in a woman. She was vain, arrogant, pompous, ignorant of anything besides fashion and gossip, and overly zealous in her dress.

"Yes, I will be out momentarily. Have tea served while they wait, thank you, Mrs. Hapkee."

"Yes, sir."

Darcy grabbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger, tightly closing his eyes, and sighed. Taking a minute to organize his unfinished work and collect himself, Darcy headed toward the drawing room.

"Darcy, old man, sorry for the unexpected visit. I know you met my wife, Mrs. Bingley, but I wished to re-introduce her."

"Of course, Bingley, Mrs. Bingley, again, a pleasure."

"You as well," Jane curtsied back.

"Miss Bingley," Darcy bowed over the other woman's hand as well.

"Mr. Darcy," she purred, squeezing his hand before he dropped hers.

It took all of Darcy's self-control not to grimace, "Please, sit." Darcy motioned to the group. Darcy himself choosing a seat by the empty hearth and as far away from the seat Caroline occupied. "Tell me, how have you found London so far, Mrs. Bingley?"

Jane sat next to Mr. Bingley on the settee, one hand entangled in his. She smiled at him before replying, "I have found it to my liking, Mr. Darcy. Though, I prefer the country to town. I grew up in a little country town, Hertfordshire to be exact."

"Yes, I remember Lady Elizabeth mentioning so when we were introduced." Darcy replied taking a chance to really look at his good friend's wife. She was a classic beauty, much like Darcy had seen Bingley fall for before. Golden, blonde hair, sparkling, blue eyes, tall, but not overly, and a thin figure. It seems, though, that this woman had a different persona than the rest. Her eyes sparkled with kindness and a happiness Darcy rarely saw. Bingley and she truly seemed to be in love.

"Oh! Darcy, that brings me to remembrance, did you hear who is courting Lady Elizabeth?" Caroline asked in an overtly innocent voice. Her face betraying her voice, an eyebrow quirked, and lips pursed in a smirk.

Darcy choked on his tea he had only lifted to his lips. 'Courting? Richard had not mentioned Elizabeth courting anyone. Who could be courting her already? She had only been out a few weeks?' Darcy's thoughts racing in his mind. He quickly set his cup down, afraid he might break it, either from shock or jealousy.

Darcy visibly swallowed, taking on what he hoped was a casual tone. "No, I had not. Who, might I ask, is courting her?"

Caroline took a deliberately slow sip of her tea, swishing it in her mouth before swallowing, dabbing her lips with a 'kerchief, and setting her tea cup and saucer down. "Hmm, oh, I do forget the name." Caroline replied, brow furrowed in mock concentration. "It was a Lord, I do remember that much. Moten? Morden? Molden? Oh! I cannot remember for the life of me," she pouted, hiding a triumphant smile behind her fan.

Darcy internally growled, insufferable woman! He knew what she was playing at, and he was not about to play into her little game. He could wait, patience was something he prided himself on. He had been waiting patiently for one woman for over seven years. He was also to dine with the lady in question this night. He could, and most certainly would, find out then.

"How mundane," he replied taking another sip of his tea to hide his frustration.

"Yes, it was not a surprise, though, after being escorted to the opera on the man's arm, introduced to his relations, and then driven home in _his_ carriage. It was practically confirmed there, would you not agree, Jane? After all, hasn't Lady Elizabeth spoken to you about her courtship?" Caroline continued.

Jane's brow furrowed as she looked between Caroline and Mr. Darcy, cocking her head to the side in contemplation. Elizabeth and she had kept correspondence over the years after their initial meeting. They had spent the summer together before Elizabeth left for a prestigious finishing school. Though, she and Elizabeth had been from two different worlds, they had gotten along quite well. Jane had spent the summer in London with her uncle, shopping with her aunt and studying with a drawing master. Jane had felt so blessed to have the fortune of a master. Her mother persistent in furthering her eldest - and most cherished - daughter's education, even if it was only one subject. Jane was elated, thinking she had the world, until she met Elizabeth, who, she later found, had four masters and a governess.

Her governess was an old lady who quite often fell asleep and left Elizabeth to her own devices. Neither told on the other, the governess was free to sleep, and read, and take her parents' money willingly, and Elizabeth was free to go where she liked, with whom she liked. The 'whom' being Elizabeth's brother and his best friend, Mr. Darcy. Jane knew from her letters with Elizabeth that she held a tender for the man, though, she was unsure if she still felt the same way. Elizabeth and she had not talked since her ball, Jane really had no clue what Elizabeth was up to. Therefore, when Jane considered her answer she replied honestly, but embellishments can always be made.

"Well, I think it is a little early to make assumptions. Elizabeth has not mentioned anything to me about anyone." She paused, eyes flickering towards Darcy. "And nothing has been stated by either parties. Perhaps they are good friends?" Jane questioned modestly, trying to appease to both people; for Darcy had an anxious look in his eyes and Caroline one of devious pleasure.

"Oh, Jane! Do be serious, we all know they are practically courting, why not assume? If it has not happened yet, it will. So, Mr. Darcy, how is our dear Georgiana?"

…..

Elizabeth lay in her bed, a wet cloth draped across her forehead, curtains drawn, and eyes tightly shut. Richard, seeing it fit that she needed a 'governess', had asked Darcy to 'watch' over her. What did Richard think was going to happen to her? She spent seven years taking care of herself, she could most certainly do it again and had decided to tell Darcy as much. She did not need some sort of caretaker, she had her parents, not that they were a great help, but she still had them, but most importantly she had herself, and that was all she needed. She spent seven years in her own company, had comforted herself, kept herself from breaking down entirely, had made herself happy. She did not need anyone else, and, most importantly, NOT Darcy.

Elizabeth whimpered in her sleep, flinching as her dreams encased her.

 _"_ _Do you know what happens to outspoken young ladies with impertinent remarks?_ "

 _"_ _They make intelligent women, who can hold their own and marry well?" Elizabeth asked innocently._

 _The red-faced mistress' face grew redder, "No! They become fallen women, women of temptation! Do you want to know how we fix this? The Lord willing."_

 _"_ _You don't?" Elizabeth questioned naïvely._

 _"_ _Show me your hands," the headmistress demanded, flustered._

 _Elizabeth reluctantly laid her hands, palms up, on the wooden desk. She defiantly looked the headmistress in the eyes, where she saw a glimmer of enjoyment. Breathing deeply, trying to hold back her tears, she continued to stare at the woman dead in the eye before she felt the strap of birches hit her hands. Tears welled further up in her eyes as it came down upon her hands two more times. Ripping the soft skin there and popping a few blood vessels._

 _"_ _Now, you will think before you speak out again."_

Elizabeth shot up, breathing heavily, tears rolling down her face.

"It was only a dream," she breathed to herself, unconsciously looking at her hands. Faint, white lines traced her palms. Staring hard, she could almost still see the torn skin, her blood running down her hands. Quickly pulling apart the curtains around her bed, she pulled the rope to signal Lucy.

Taking deep breaths, trying to calm her racing nerves.

"You rung, ma'am?" Lucy called from the servant's door.

"Y-yes, open the curtains and light the candles." She told her, staring hard in front of her, "Please," she added as an afterthought.

"Of course, ma'am," Lucy curtsied before setting to her task.

Elizabeth sat in her bed for a bit longer before swinging her legs over and walking to her writing desk. Dipping her quill in the ink pot, she opened her journal.

 _I had the dream again, the one about my school. Will I never escape the wretched place? How long will it continue to torment me? Are my hands not reminder enough? Must my subconscious now plague me as well? I do not know if I can stand it, the anguish is taking its toll on me. You can now visibly see in my appearance how I am slowly withering away. What if one day I simply wither away all together? Like the ashes of the dead? Blow away into the void? I wonder if I would then feel better. Feel relief in this awful bane of my life._

 _I_

 _Am_

 _Simply_

 _Withering_

 _Away …_

 _Would anyone notice? If I was to just blow away? Would anyone take notice of the poor, entitled, scarred, ignorant, heartbroken, lonely, decayed girl known as Lady Elizabeth Grace Fitzwilliam of Matlock?_

 **A/N: THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA, LMFG, FOR EDITING!**

 **Hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, or Holiday if you don't celebrate. I for one had an amazing Christmas! I sat around and did absolutely nothing, which happens to be one of my favorite things to do. I hope you enjoy the chapter and thank you so so much for the reviews, follows, and faves, of course please continue in telling me what you think. I absolutely love the feedback, and read every single review, they make my day! Thanks for taking the time to tell me your thoughts, I really appreciate it, and I try to make sure I go back and fix the errors I missed or did not have prior knowledge about. Thanks for helping me!**

**Much Love**

 **~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	10. Chapter 10

**Everyone give a huge thanks to my beta for this chapter, LMFG, she did an amazing job editing this!**

 **Chapter Ten**

Darcy arrived at the Fitzwilliam's at precisely five o'clock for supper, unsettling nerves building in his stomach. Darcy was handing his hat and gloves to the footman when Richard walked into the hall.

"Ah, Darcy, how are you, old man?"

"Why you call me 'old man' is beyond me, seeing as you are older than I, and I am well, thank you."

"Because, Darcy, you act far older than I, therefore, old man. Thank you for asking, I am well," Richard replied sarcastically.

Darcy stared at him unfazed.

"Yes, well, come in, Darcy, do not just stand there. Mother and Elizabeth are not yet ready, we can wait for them in the library."

Darcy only nodded, following Richard, though, he knew the way by heart. Upon reaching the library, Richard poured himself a drink, offering one to Darcy as well.

"No, thank you, not yet anyway. How is Elizabeth?" Darcy asked looking out the window.

London was abnormally cool for the summer, a frigid wind had blown all day, making riding hard. Darcy had spent the day after the Bingleys' call finishing his business affairs. In a week, he would only have two months to marry, and he had yet to find even one prospect.

"Richard, what am I to do?"

Richard took a drink of his scotch, "About?" he prompted.

"My sister? A wife? I have yet to find one, Richard, one suitable prospect. Not even one, what am I supposed to do?" Darcy asked, dragging his hands down his face.

"Look at me, Darcy." Richard demanded. Focusing a stern gaze on his friend, he continued, "I am going to be straight forward with you, Darcy, because you are my very closest friend and brother I never had. In two weeks' time, Lord and Lady Stainton are throwing their daughter's coming out ball, you and I are to attend, and there you will dance every dance with an available lady. By the end of the night, you choose your wife from said ladies. I do not care if she is the most obnoxious, ignorant, oblivious, stupid woman there, but you will find your wife and marry her within the month. Darcy, you have to do this for Georgiana's sake. Keep her in mind as you pick out a wife, perhaps she will help you realize the reason you are doing this."

Darcy nodded once before turning back towards the window, he knew Richard was right. He needed to stop dragging his feet and wed. There were plenty of woman who would accept the situation. Except, Darcy was not ready to stop dragging his feet, he still had this stupid piece of hope in his heart holding out for Elizabeth. He knew he could never have her, Richard for one would never allow it, and she deserved so much more than the circumstances he presented her. When he wed, reality would step forth and rear its ugly head, showing him he now, more so than ever, could not have Elizabeth. Darcy knew it was stupid to think he would marry for love, his parents had been a love match, much the same as Richard's. They taught Darcy love could overcome any obstacle, love could heal the deepest wounds, love was the most powerful thing. He always thought himself blessed with his station in life, wealthy, well connected, and respected. He thought that should be enough to be able to have the freedom of marrying for love; he was sorely mistaken.

"You are right, Richard, thank you."

"Of course, Darcy, old man. Now, how about we go see if the lovely ladies are ready?"

Darcy nodded before following Richard out of the library and into the dining hall.

….

Elizabeth felt she had been sitting in front of her vanity mirror quite often as of late. Always getting ready, primped, and pulled. So here she sat again, Lucy folding her hair into a long braid before twisting it into a bun. Leaving a few curls down to frame her face. She could never wear her hair too high, for the sheer thickness of it and at length gave her a massive headache. Elizabeth's ebony curls reached her mid-thigh, she loved her long hair, it was one thing she had never wished to change about herself. Even if it caused quite the hassle, not only for her but also her maid. Once a heavy amount of pearl powder was applied to her face and her eyes discreetly lined in black, Elizabeth left for the dining hall. Butterflies and bees, it seemed, had decided to fight within her stomach. She had not seen Darcy since she basically told him to stay away. Now, here he was, fixing the split in the friendship between the Darcy's and Fitzwilliam's. If only he was to fix the split in their friendship, Elizabeth laughed at the thought.

"Do be reasonable, Elizabeth," she chided herself.

Walking into the dining hall, she immediately spotted her other half, sitting in his normal spot, across from hers. She remembered kicking him across the table when he would say something particularly nasty as children. The thought brought a smile to her face, thus was when Darcy happened to look up from talking to Richard and spot his other half. His heart skipped a beat at the simple beauty that was Elizabeth. Before Richard could even think it, Darcy was up and walking towards her to escort her the rest of the way.

"Lady Elizabeth," he bowed over her hand, taking it lightly in his.

"Mr. Darcy," she curtsied.

"May I escort you the rest of the way?"

Elizabeth tried to hide her blush, for Darcy's eyes seemed to be staring straight through her. She almost felt completely naked in his presence when he looked at her thus. She could see in his eyes a mixture of awe, jealousy, and something more, she could not place it, though.

She almost laughed, 'What would Darcy have to be jealous of?'

"Please," she managed.

Darcy tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, pulling her closer than was necessary. If he breathed deeply, he could smell her intoxicating scent. Lavender, parchment paper, and vanilla, it made him delirious.

Elizabeth suppressed a smile at how close Darcy tucked her. She could smell his invigorating scent, sandalwood, parchment paper, and an odd, but pleasant, outdoor smell. Elizabeth loved the outdoors, she smiled to herself.

Darcy led her to her normal chair, her smile growing wider at his remembrance. Once they were all seated again, Richard struck up conversation, realizing his two other companions would not with how lost they were in staring at one another. Richard rolled his eyes, simply ridiculous.

Elizabeth tried to berate herself for feeling so elated at having Darcy here, so close, just like their childhood. She knew she needed to separate herself from him, forget these thoughts and feelings, but there was this place deep in her heart that she just could not let go. Elizabeth believed that the little bit of hope she held in her heart was due to the fact that, though, Darcy had ignored her for seven years and had not shown even a bit of remorse or guilt, he had gotten her through those years. He may not have written, and he may have broken her heart but, when Elizabeth's hands were beaten, when she stood on a stool in the corner, and she sat alone in her lessons, cried herself to sleep, wrote him letters and burned them just to have someone to talk to, he was there. In her heart and mind, she would think of their time together, her memories playing through her mind to bring a smile to her face when she felt most like frowning. Though, he was not there physically or even in writing, he was mentally there, getting her through those horrible seven years. She could not simply forget someone like that, albeit she had tried, she had tried ridiculously hard to remove Darcy from her life.

Richard and Darcy were discussing the war when the Earl and Lady Fitzwilliam walked into the dining room.

"Hm, hm!" Lady Fitzwilliam cleared her throat, "Gentlemen, as much as you want to discuss this war it is hardly appropriate to do so in the presence of a lady and at the table."

The two men stood from their seats, bowing to the Earl and Countess.

"Forgive us, Mother, it seems we got lost in the discussion." Richard excused.

"Of course, pardon your Father and me as well for arriving late, I was behind in preparing myself. Mr. Darcy," Lady Eleanor turned to him, a forced smile upon her lips. "How are you?" She questioned as her husband pulled her seat out for her before sitting down himself at the head of the table. The other two gentlemen sitting down as well.

"Thank you, my Lady, I am well, and yourself?" Darcy asked.

"I find myself extremely well, our Lizzy here has a prospective suitor. Perhaps you know him, a Lord Morton?"

Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment and rage, "Mother," she quickly cut in, "Pardon my interruption, but I do not think Mr. Darcy cares to hear about my," she paused, cringing, "prospective suitors."

"She is right, my dear," the Earl agreed, patting his wife's hand. Frowning at her, then Elizabeth, and finally Darcy before frowning into his glass.

Lady Eleanor harrumphed before changing the subject, "Fine, Mr. Darcy, how is Miss Georgiana?"

Richard coughed on his wine he had just sipped and Darcy grew pale. Elizabeth looked at Darcy and saw the mix of emotions that played through his gorgeous, hazel eyes. Sorrow, fear, anger, but mostly sadness, a look of loss. Elizabeth's brows furrowed together in a mix of confusion and worry.

"Uh," Darcy cleared his throat, "She is … um …" he paused, seemingly thinking, "Well," he finally coughed out.

Lady Eleanor stared at him as if he was mad, "Mr. Darcy, are you well?"

"Fine, I am fine. I heard you attended the opera on Friday night, Lady Elizabeth," Darcy inquired.

Elizabeth paused as a servant set the first course in front of them. "Yes, I did, indeed."

"What, may I ask, did you see?" Darcy questioned, trying to keep his conversation with her going, especially after what he had just heard. It seemed Caroline had been right, soon Elizabeth would be someone else's, though, she was never his to begin with. Darcy tried to suppress the urge to break something at the thought of _his_ Elizabeth with someone else, more or less Morton. He had not even bothered correcting himself on his slip of thinking Elizabeth as his. Even if they were to soon be separated, Elizabeth would always be his, his first tender, his first infatuation, his first love … his only love.

Elizabeth's answer shook him from his thoughts, "I was fortunate enough to see _La_ _buona figliuola,_ the opera based on the novel _Pamela._ Have you seen it as well?" Elizabeth smiled. She could not help but smile when in his company. Something about his presence stirred a dying flame within her. His hazel eyes that looked like a melting chocolate, ink black hair reaching just the nape of his neck, curling at the ends. Elizabeth had a newfound urge to run her fingers through that hair, watch as the curls uncurled and rolled back. All the while looking into those eyes, she had always loved those dark expressive eyes, especially when he always wore such a formidable? mask. She could see his emotions in his eyes, dancing and illuminating her curiosity.

"Elizabeth? Are you well, my dear?" her father questioned. Glancing between his awestruck Lizzy and an equally awestruck Darcy. He smiled in spite of himself.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, I was lost in thought, forgive me," she blushed, mortified. 'Darcy must think I was ignoring him,' she urgently thought, 'purposefully slighting him.'

'My Elizabeth, come back to me.' Darcy thought staring at the lost expression on his love's face. He quickly shook his head off of that word, no need to cause himself further pain. Elizabeth could never really be his. He wanted to stand up and kick his chair in frustration, throw his wine glass against the wall, and scream at the top of his lungs. Why did he have to loose everyone he loved? Why had life dealt him such a cruel hand? First his Elizabeth, then his parents, his Georgiana, and once again his Elizabeth. He quickly smoothed his rage and repeated his answer.

"Yes, I have seen it. I saw it the last time it was performed here in London. It was the first opera I saw as a gentlemen out of University, so I suppose in a way much like you." The corners of his mouth turned up.

Richard stared between the two, amused and slightly worried he had made a mistake in asking his brother in all but blood to watch over his dear little one. However, Richard knew he owed Darcy this much after what he asked of him. Darcy needed Elizabeth now more than ever, and, though, Richard made it clear he was to keep his hands to himself, did not mean they could not be the close friends they once were.

Elizabeth smiled, "And how did you find it?"

That smile, it would be the end of Darcy, he could not help but all return the smile, albeit a smaller one. "I enjoyed it exceedingly, I found nothing wanting in the story. The music was one of delight and something I shan't soon forget."

Elizabeth's heart all but skipped a beat, her thoughts of the opera all but fell from his lips. _La_ _buona figliuola_ was the story of a marquis falling desperately in love with a maid. The impropriety of the situation and the mixed love charades and triangles, only to find that the maid was a daughter of a German baron, in the end. Thus allowing the marquis and her to marry without shaming themselves. Elizabeth could not have been enthralled and entrapped more by the story.

"I found it much the same, Mr. Darcy." She shyly smiled back at him before cutting her lamb and taking a bite.

Supper ended in idle conversation and Richard watched Darcy and Elizabeth watch each other whilst his mother chatted on about something or another.

"Well, my dear, we shall meet you in the drawing room in precisely an hour's time, until then," the Earl said, kissing her hand in adieu.

The women curtsied before departing to the drawing room and the men to the Earl's study.

…

Darcy stood in the entrance hall donning his hat and coat, Richard clapped him on the shoulder before Darcy walked out the door. Once the gentlemen had reconvened with the ladies, Elizabeth had kept them entertained with music. Playing the pianoforte and singing, Darcy could not remember a time he quite enjoyed listening to music so much. Granted his sister was a true proficient, playing with trained fingers, but Elizabeth … she played with her heart on the keys as well as her voice. It was enough to bring people to tears and so was Lady Fitzwilliam. Darcy was walking to his waiting carriage when he heard the door open. Turning around to see if perhaps he forgot something.

There, standing with her back to the door, hands behind her on the door handle, was Elizabeth. Darcy stared back at her, her face bathed in the moonlight caused his heart to leap.

"Lady Elizabeth, what are you doing out here?" Darcy questioned, walking back up the stone steps to meet her.

Elizabeth looked down at her feet, "I, well … you see, Mr. Darcy? I just thought, perhaps I would mention, since we are to become better acquainted that most mornings one of my favorite pass times is to take a walk in the park. Usually right as the sun has just decided to rise because there are less people. Now you know something about me that most people do not."

Darcy could not help but smile, his heart beating wildly. His Elizabeth was giving him a second chance even after the pain he caused her. She was discreetly giving him an opportunity to at least reinstate the friendship, if not more. Darcy could barely breath, his Elizabeth was an angel in disguise, a goddess sent to make mortal men weak.

"Is that so, Lady Elizabeth? Well, I suppose I must tell you something of me then. I prefer to ride in the early hours of morn as the view is like no other, preferably in the park when I am staying in London. However, when at Pemberley, I ride through the grounds towards the forest area by the entrance, where a path lays, much like in your Matlock home. There lays a pond where I keep it free of fish for certain uses, my horse loves to ride there, and the master admits to it as well."

Darcy saw the adorable pink blush tinting Elizabeth's cheeks before she ducked her head. "Good night, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy reached for her gloveless hand, lifting it to his lips for a lingering kiss, waiting, hoping for those brown eyes to meet his. In the end, they did, only for a brief second before they quickly looked away, but they had met his.

"Good night, Lady Elizabeth," he whispered onto her hand before dropping it and walking back towards his carriage.

Darcy's thoughts were filled with her as he rode home in his carriage. Her smile, her eyes, her lips … Although, something was off with her he noticed, but then again it has been almost eight years. 'Perhaps she has changed?' Darcy questioned to himself. Ah, well, he would find out soon enough, for he was going to go riding the very next morning, right as the sun decided to rise.

…..

"Uh! What was I thinking?" Elizabeth questioned aloud as she sat down at her writing desk, journal in front of her.

 _It seems that the headmistress has succeeded in making me the ignorant, eloquent young lady she strived for us all to be. I have gone completely and utterly mad, what was I thinking in letting Darcy into my life again? How could I have done something so thoughtless? Knowing full well that my heart, already broken so thoroughly, could be broken yet again? I think if that were to happen I would not recover. However, Darcy seems to make me feel something I have not felt in quite some time. Perhaps, perhaps this is the thing to help bring me back to the person I once was._

 **A/N: Seriously!? You guys are so awesome! As a reward for said awesomeness Chapter Ten, also for the 60 reviews I received. Merci beaucoup! Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter, I was having a bit of a hard time writing this one actually. So fingers crossed that Chapter Eleven runs a bit smoother.**

 **Completely unrelated question: What is your favorite song, I really need some new music to listen to. Haha thanks!**

 **~ Much love,**

 **Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	11. Chapter 11

**My Beta, LMFG, is so amazing and deserves all the credit for making this acceptable to read.**

 **Chapter Eleven**

"My dear, may I ask you a question?" the Earl inquired of his wife as she sat in the drawing room the next day working on suppers for the upcoming week.

"Yes, Walter, what is it?" she answered not looking up from her parchment.

"Why is it you have never thought of putting our dear Lizzy with Mr. Darcy?" Walter casually questioned.

Eleanor now looked up from her writing, eyes wide and brow furrowed before she began laughing. "Very amusing, Walter, do be serious. Now, if you please, I must get back to finishing this."

"Eleanor, I am being serious."

Lady Fitzwilliam looked up once again, Walter hardly ever called her by her Christian name.

"Walter, what has brought on this sudden question? I thought we had an unspoken agreement, Darcy just won't do for our Lizzy."

"Why? What is your reasoning behind the thought? I thought perhaps Darcy would be a fine match for our Lizzy."

"Walter," Eleanor sighed, "Speaking hypothetically, it could not happen because Lizzy already has a suitor. One, I might add, that has a title and a very promising future in parliament. He would be able to provide our Lizzy the lifestyle she wants. One where she could stay in town all year round. Darcy is a fine man, but he just simply is not the one for our Lizzy."

Walter shook his head, "That is not a good enough reason, Eleanor. Darcy may not have a title, but he comes from a long line of respected and defined family. I know he runs a good home, and he is in no way wanting in money. So, please, further explain why not Darcy?"

"I do not understand why you are pushing this so hard. Has Darcy made our Lizzy an offer?" Eleanor asked, grey eyes growing. "He has not, has he? Oh! Please, Walter, tell me he hasn't."

The Earl looked down at his hands before standing up and pacing. "Eleanor, there is something I need to tell you."

"Walter, you can always turn him down, I had four marriage proposals before you came along. I turned them all down. One won't hurt, and if it's because Darcy is a friend of the family, well, no matter. I am sure the boy won't be too saddened, there are plenty of women out there for him to choose," Eleanor all stated in a hurry.

"Eleanor, he has not proposed, but," the Earl continued seeing his wife's excitement. "But, something of that nature has arisen. Eleanor, I am afraid, at least to say in your case, I have bad news."

….

Elizabeth sat on a blanket spread atop the green grass, in the exact same spot she had sat when she and Darcy had met before. Her stomach was in knots, and she was pretty positive a fight between a bear and a lion was going on inside, not only her in stomach but in her heart as well. She was in a state of fear and struggling to understand which fear outweighed the other. The fear that Darcy would not come or the fear that she cared if he did or did not.

She had been waiting for about an hour now, but to her it felt like longer. It was eating her up inside, the waiting. Bringing forth to her memory the waiting for Darcy's letters. The never ending wondering if she would receive a reply or not, and now she found herself in the same situation. Simply different circumstances.

She tried to distract herself, she wrote like she always did when she went on an outing. Explaining the way the park looked drastically different today than it did the day she had ran into Darcy the first time. The sky was greyer and Elizabeth could not help reflecting how it must be foreshadowing future events. Clouds covered it in thick form, leaving no room for the sun to peak out, making the day quite chilly, even by London standards. Not a bird sang, nor flew in the sky, and an eerie wind was howling, dancing through the large oak trees, causing the pond water to ripple.

"Miss, perhaps we should be gettin' back? This weather looks like it's about to rain any second. I would hate for you to be catchin' a cold. Your parents would kill me." Lucy called to her mistress, noticing not only was she shivering, but her mistress was, too. Even dressed in her heavy pelisse, scarf, and shawl.

"Just a moment more, Lucy, then we may leave. I simply have to finish this entry." Elizabeth called back, staring hopelessly out past the grove of trees. She looked up at the grey clouds that seemed to be getting greyer and heavier as well and finally relented into letting Lucy lead her home.

Elizabeth and Lucy reached the Fitzwilliam manor just as the first drops of rain dropped from the overbearing clouds.

"Thank you, Lucy, if you could light the hearth in my chambers, please, and bring a tray of cheese and bread along with some tea; that would be wonderful."

Lucy bobbed a curtsy, "Course, my lady."

Elizabeth let out a bitter laugh, 'on second thought, I do not think I can eat,' she thought. Her stomach was in a twist, she felt as though she was going to be sick.

"Lizzy, is that you?" Richard called from the library.

"Yes, Richard, it is me," Elizabeth called back as she stepped into the library. "Is there something you need?"

"Do I need a reason to spend time with my favorite sister?" Richard smiled, plopping down in a chair by the fire.

Elizabeth smirked, joining him, "I am your only sister," she reminded him.

"Therefore making you my favorite," he laughed. "No other candidate to compete with. Tell me, Elizabeth, how are you?" Richard questioned, staring intently at his dear little one.

Elizabeth wiggled in her seat, hands subconsciously twisting themselves. "I am fine, Richard, and you?"

Richard stared at his sister coolly, "Do not play games with me, Elizabeth. How. Are. You?" he slowly repeated.

Elizabeth plastered a fake smile on her lips, one, she mused, that was beginning to not feel so fake. "Richard, I do not jest, I am well. I am happy to be home, happy to spend time with you, even if you are to leave me soon. Happy to once again be sleeping in my bed," she laughed. "And society, well, you know it was never much to my liking and that has not changed. I think perhaps I will be better once the London season is over. When we may go back to Matlock, I prefer the country air to London's."

Richard still stared at his sister, not quite convinced.

"Richard, truly, I am well. You shall see, once we go back to Matlock I feel my spirits will be much higher." Elizabeth paused, her face falling. "Well, actually, I shall write you how well I am. Richard, how long will you be gone? I do worry so very much when you are away, the not-knowing, and the constant on-edge-feeling. I do not think I really quite take a real breath while you are away."

Richard grasped his sister's hand, "Elizabeth, look at me." Richard reached out and turned his sisters pale face to look at him when she did not. Meeting her chocolate eyes with his green. "I promise, promise to write you every week, every day if I must! But I promise you, I will come back, I won't let a bunch of Frenchmen keep me from my dear little one. Especially not when I see a wedding so soon in her future. I need to make sure the boy knows who he has to deal with if you should come to harm."

Elizabeth forced out a laugh that came out more as a huff of air. She tried not to let her brother's innocent comment bother her, but it did. Plastering her fake smile on, she squeezed her brother's hand, "Thank you, Richard."

He smiled back, "Now, how about a game of chess? See if perhaps you have lost your touch."

At that Elizabeth did laugh, "Really, Richard, I think you might have taken one too many blows to the head."

…

Darcy had woken early that morning fully intent on riding out to the grove of trees he had first seen Elizabeth at. Though, being an early riser for years now, he had his valet make certain he was up just as the sun began to peek out. Just as he was about to hop astride his horse, Mrs. Hapkee had ran out, skirts in hand, flailing a letter in the air.

"Mr. Darcy, do beg your pardon, but this has just arrived express … from Miss Georgiana, sir," Mrs. Hapkee had sputtered, out of breath.

Darcy's face grew grave at the mention of Georgiana, he had, of course, been conversing with her throughout his stay in London. So, at the mention of an express from her, Darcy did not know what to expect. In her frail condition, Darcy's mind immediately jumped to horrible conclusions. Ripping the letter first from Mrs. Hapkee's hands and then open, Darcy read the content.

"Miss Georgiana has fallen ill, she has sent for the doctor." Darcy paused looking at Mrs. Hapkee, "She wants me to come home."

Mrs. Hapkee hesitantly replied, "Is this not good news, in a way, sir?"

Darcy's face flew from one emotion to the next before he replaced his normal mask and stood straight. Thinking, he paused, "Yes, this is, as you said, in a way, good news. Have Mr. Smith pack me a night bag, I leave as soon as he has it ready."

Mrs. Hapkee curtsied, "Very good, sir."

Darcy pat his horse twice before he ran into his study to write a quick note to the Fitzwilliam's, explaining his sudden departure and his whereabouts as well as when he expected to be back in London. Darcy hoping sooner rather than later.

"Please, please, Elizabeth, wait for me. Wait for me, my love, and I shall explain everything," Darcy mumbled to himself.

…..

"A note, my lady, from a Mr. Darcy," a footman bowed to Lady Fitzwilliam. Lady Fitzwilliam's face dropped at the name. Her eyes growing dark and her hands clenching.

"Thank you, you are dismissed." Lady Fitzwilliam eyed the note with distain, especially after what her husband had just recently told her this morn; had he not already done enough to this family? What did he want now?

Lady Fitzwilliam sat back down in one of the high back chairs by the hearth. Though, it might be the spring months, today had been an unusually cool day. Scowling, Eleanor slit open the letter. Her grey eyes scanning the fast paced penmanship, a small smile crept to her lips, her eyes shone with pleasure.

"Elizabeth is yet eighteen," she mused, tapping her finger to her lips. "Miss Newby, bring me some parchment, an ink well, and a feather, please. I have an invitation to send out."

…

Elizabeth had, as predicted, beat Richard in their game of chess. They had spent an hour afterwards talking and basking in one another's company. Richard left in three weeks' time, and Elizabeth wanted to spend as much time with her brother as she could, but after this morn's events she was in a bad state. She kept running it over in her head. She had thought they had come to some sort of an agreement, albeit discreetly and definitely not in direct terms, but an agreement all the same. Perhaps she had misread their discussion, perhaps _he_ misread their discussion?

Elizabeth groaned as she, quite unladylike, plopped onto her bed. Repeating to herself, 'I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry,' over and over again.

Elizabeth was tired of crying, it made her eyes red and puffy, which resulted in the need for more face paint - something she despised - and gave her quite the headache. Standing from her bed, she solemnly walked towards her writing desk, opening her journal.

 _I was never able to tell you the outcome of this morning, as it happens Mr. Darcy did not show. I blame myself for building up false expectations. He never once said anything along the lines of, 'yes, Lady Elizabeth, I will meet you in the morn.' He had simply stated his preferences and likes, much the same as I did. I had simply assumed, which is something I apparently do quite often. Silly me, my headmistress would be thoroughly displeased with me at this moment. Let's see, shall we?_

 _Rule one: Assumptions lead to false hopes, do not have them._

 _Rule two: At all times is one to have a chaperone when in the presence of a male._

 _Well, technically I did not break this one, Lucy was there if he had shown, which he did not._

 _Rule three: Never be the initiator, have possible suitor always address the lady first._

 _I did break this one. If I am correct in my_ _ **assumptions**_ _that would be three plus two extra for willful disobedience, so, precisely five swatches to my hands. And in the case the headmistress is in bad form, a standing on the stool in the dining hall all day, no food._

Elizabeth stopped writing to look at her scarred hands, tracing her left palm with her right hand. She winced at the white lines that now made up her palms. Varying in size, shape, and angle. Watching as a single tear rolled down her cheek and landed on ' _he did not,'_ smearing the ink. Her hand giving a brief twitch.

A knock at the door broke Elizabeth from her thoughts.

"Enter," she softly called, watching as her mother walked into her chambers.

Elizabeth hurriedly closed her journal and stood to greet her mother.

"Mother, is there something you need?" Elizabeth questioned, trying to make certain the shake in her voice was gone.

"Come, Elizabeth, sit with me." Lady Fitzwilliam beckoned to her daughter as she took a seat on the divan.

Elizabeth eyed her mother before straightening her cream gown and taking a seat beside her.

"Lizzy, dear, I noticed you and Mr. Darcy becoming … how should I put this?" Lady Fitzwilliam paused and took her daughters hand. Briefly looking into her daughters chocolate brown eyes. So much like her father's. Deep, full of emotion, innocence, and hurt. Her mother looked away, not able to look her daughter in the eye as she continued.

"You two seemed to be getting along quite well last night. I hate to be the one to tell you this because I, as much as you, Lizzy, want what is best for you, I know you would have been happy with Mr. Darcy-"

"Mother, what are you speaking of? I do not follow," Elizabeth interrupted.

"I am not blind, Lizzy, I saw how interested you two were in each other."

Elizabeth laughed, "You must be mistaken, Mother, there is nothing between Mr. Darcy and me." 'If only that were not true,' Elizabeth thought pungently.

Eleanor's face brightened and her hand tightened a bit on her daughter's. "Good, then you will not be too upset when you hear that Mr. Darcy has left London."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, shock evident across her beautiful face, "W-what?" she stammered.

"Yes, he said something about needing fresh air, and how the _ton_ was not what he had been hopping for this season or something or other. Lizzy, dear, do not concern yourself with this. It is no big deal, I know Richard had asked him to look after you, especially with the way your father's health is, but it is no matter. Actually, that is the reason I wanted to speak with you. I have invited Lord Morton to dine with us this night. He has already agreed and his sister and cousin are to join him."

Elizabeth sat shocked, "He, he is gone? Not to come back this season?"

"Lizzy, was that all you received from what I just said? Yes, but no matter, Lord Morton is to come to dine this night. So, you, my daughter, need your beauty rest. Up! Up! Go on, into bed with you. Lucy! Help Lady Elizabeth into one of her nightgowns, let her sleep for a good three hours, and then not a minute must be wasted. You get her up and ready for supper tonight. One of her ball gowns will do, I believe, and leave some of her hair down, I think it looks best that way, don't you agree?"

"Yes, my lady," Lucy curtsied.

Elizabeth's eyes were still wide, and it took Lucy physically pushing her to get her to stand from her seat on the divan. Once she was clad in a nightgown and in bed, the curtains drawn, her mother left satisfied.

Elizabeth lay there, covers pulled to her chin looking at the ceiling. "He left," she stated aloud to herself. Her brow furrowed, the only movement she had made herself since hearing the news. "Why would he leave?"

Elizabeth took in a deep, shuddering breath, lip trembling as her eyes once again gathered tears. "WHY DOES EVERYONE LEAVE ME!?" she screamed before giving way to the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. She lay there, shuddering breaths escaping her lungs, shoulders violently shaking, thinking of all the things she could possibly have done wrong to drive him away. She did not understand what it was she could have done to make him leave and so soon, too.

…..

Darcy rode as fast as his horse would carry him, he needed to arrive home so he could once again be back in London. Things had only now seemed to be looking up with Elizabeth, he had planned that morning to tell her about his love for her. Richard be damned! He loved Elizabeth, and he was sure as hell not going to let Richard stop him from his one happiness. He was to tell her about him and Georgie's situation, and how if she could not be a part of that life to at least allow him to be a part of hers again, at least as a friend. He was going to propose a courtship to her, give her time to think about his predicament and, if she wanted to be a part of it, all the while becoming friends again, relishing in one another's company. He was going to tell her exactly how long his heart had been beating for her, exactly how long it hurt when she was away, and how he had to read every one of her letters but never be able to reply.

He knew he was being selfish if he dragged her into this he knew, but his heart was thinking for him this time. He was letting his heart decide for once. And if last night's supper was any indication that he had at least the slightest chance to at least hope, then he was going to lay everything on the table. Elizabeth was worth the heart break, she was worth the fight, and Darcy be damned if he did not put one up for her.

…

Elizabeth once again stared at the broken girl in the mirror. Watching Lucy tie her hair in a bun atop her head. Memories washing over her…

 _"_ _Darcy, I don't want to go, I know you and Richard are both to go away as well and if I stayed I would be by myself, but, Darcy, -," her voice faltered._

 _Darcy looked at the little girl in front of him, her pale skin covered in a red flush from her crying. He took her small hand in his already large one, "Elizabeth …" Darcy began but did not know where to start. So instead he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her wet cheek._

 _"_ _You will do amazing, Elizabeth, pay no heed to my comment at supper this evening." Darcy pulled away, slipping out of his waistcoat pocket a slip of paper. "Adieu."_

 _Elizabeth watched as Darcy walked out into the entrée hall, her cheek still hot, but not from crying. She held the parchment tightly in her hands, close to her heart before taking a deep breath and reading it._

 _Once we played at love together -  
Played it smartly, if you please;  
Lightly, as a windblown feather,  
Did we stake a heart apiece._

 __ _Oh, it was delicious fooling!  
In the hottest of the game,  
Without thought of future cooling,  
All too quickly burned Life's flame._

 _In this give-and-take of glances,  
Kisses sweet as honey dews,  
When we played with equal chances,  
Did you win, or did I lose?*_

 _"_ _Adieu, Fitzy," she whispered to herself._

Elizabeth walked to her hearth once Lucy had finished her hair, holding tightly in her hands a crumpled, torn, and weathered piece of parchment.

She took a deep breath, threw the paper into the fire, and watched the flames eat it away. "Adieu, Fitzy."

 **A/N: TADA! So, tell me what you think. I was pleasantly surprised by the reaction I received for the last chapter, you guys are amazing! I would not be writing this if it was not without your reviews, follows, and faves, they keep me going. Continue reading, I promise this is a HEA! I hope to update again soon, but I am visiting America at the moment and do not know when I will have time to write another chapter. I will try my very hardest however, to produce another one shortly.**

 ***The poem is called "Once We Played," by Mathilde Blind**

 **On to the question I asked previously:**

 ** _Gaskellian: I could completely see how this song would remind you of Darcy. Great song! Listened to it while I wrote this chapter actually._**

 ** _Karen1220: I adore 40's and 50's music, I listened to a cover of "My Funny Valentine," by Alice Fredenham, as you suggested finding one performed by a female, then one by Frank Sinatra. I really enjoyed it, I as well listen to a lot of classic music and opera. I completely understand where you are coming from with Italian love songs. Your story you're working on sounds really interesting. Please do inform me if and when you upload it, would love to read it._**

 ** _AndristasiaGrey-Darcy: I am not a big indie and country music listener either, however, I found I really quite enjoyed the songs you suggested. Specifically "Little Lion Man," and "Believe," both great songs. As to your question, yes, it is a HEA, I am too much of a hopeless romantic for it not to be._**

 ** _LuniaWolfe: Great song to listen to when one is writing!_**

 ** _Cuinwen: I know exactly what you mean, I suppose I should not have asked per say favorite song, but I really enjoyed the song you suggested._**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Elizabeth, decked in a yellow dress with a cream corset, walked down the stairs to the dining hall. Hair half up, half down; just as her mother had directed. Her dark curls reaching just below her waist on her left side. Little yellow flowers adorned her dark brown hair as well. Pearl drop earrings and a pendant necklace hanging from her slender neck. Eyes heavily plastered in pearl powder and eye paint, trying to mask the redness and swollenness of them.

"My dear little one, you look beautiful!" Richard exclaimed as she finished descending the stairs.

"Thank you, Richard," a slight smile crossed her lips, "I see Mother has dressed us both in our best." She smirked, eyeing Richard dressed in his regimentals.

"Yes, well, what Mother asks for, Mother receives, besides I try to appease her while I can. You know how she reacts when I leave. If this dress makes her a little more proud of me or a little less on edge of me putting my life in danger, then I shall dress in my uniform."

"Richard, you do know I am proud of you? What you do, it is a great sacrifice, and I do not know how many people tell you, but thank you, Richard."

Richard was holding his sister's hand looking at his shoes. He cleared his throat a couple of times before looking up at her.

"Thank you, Elizabeth … that means very much to me. Now, let us appease our guests with our presence." Richard teased.

"Yes, I think a certain Lady Morton will be very much _appeased_ with your presence, dear brother," Elizabeth jested.

Richard coughed, "What?! I have not the slightest idea of what you speak of. I am completely astonished you would suggest such a notion, Elizabeth. Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?" Richard spluttered.

Elizabeth, whose eyes had been alight with merriment at her brother's and her jesting, fell. She knew he was asking a rhetorical question, but she still hesitated. If she could not recognize the woman in the mirror, how could anyone else? Surely Richard had to have noticed the change in her? Or even her mother for that matter, and father, but as it seemed no one but herself and Lucy had noticed the change in her.

Elizabeth almost wanted to scoff at the indecency, her maid, though, she was a human being like everyone else, she was still a maid, and yet she had noticed.

"Elizabeth! Richard! There you are, I was about to send Mr. Wesley to go looking for you," Lady Fitzwilliam laughed as Lord Morton and her father stood. Both bowing as Richard bowed as well and Elizabeth curtsied.

"Good evening, Lady Elizabeth," Lord Morton smiled as she took her seat beside him.

Elizabeth gave a small smile back before answering, "Good evening, Lord Morton."

His bright, blue eyes shown with excitement and happiness, "How are you this eve?"

"Thank you, I am well, and you?"

"Exceedingly so, I have spent the day with my beautiful sister and cousin at the royal menagerie, and now I have the pleasure of ending it with a feast and another beautiful lady."

Elizabeth gave yet another, small smile and fidgeted in her seat. She sent a silent prayer up when the first course arrived, giving her hands and mouth something to do other than fidget and talk.

Elizabeth ate one of the hot hors d'oeuvres chewing slowly as to bide her time.

"Oh, the royal menagerie! I have been dying for Walter to take me, how did you find it?" Lady Fitzwilliam asked.

"Wondrous! The animals were quite exotic, some I had never even heard of. I highly suggest undertaking a visit. You will not regret it," Lord Morton beamed.

"Oh, brother! Perhaps we could take them sometime, I know I would enjoy going again," Lady Morton smiled.

Elizabeth's mother seemed to light up at the prospect of an outing with the Morton's, as did Lord Morton at the prospect of an outing with Elizabeth. "We would be delighted to accompany you the next time you attend."

Lord Morton looked to Elizabeth as the second course was served, "Lady Elizabeth?" He questioned, wanting her answer as well.

Elizabeth took a sip of her soup before answering, thinking of the safest and most vague answer she could. "I would enjoy seeing the royal menagerie, I believe it would provide quite the journal entry," Elizabeth mused.

Lord Morton was about to answer when his cousin exceeded him.

"Lady Elizabeth, if I remember correctly, my cousin offered to bring to life one of your journal entries. Is that still a possibility?" Miss Hopwood asked, sipping her soup, and washing it down with wine. Elizabeth scrunched her nose at the combination, taking a sip of her soup.

Lady Gabriella Morton who had been in conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam paused to gage Elizabeth's answer. When she did not answer right away, Lady Morton joined the conversation. "Oh, please, do, Lady Elizabeth! I feel as if I have drawn everything there is to draw. I have drawn the ocean front in Italy, I have drawn the French countryside, the London streets, the English Channel, I have drawn my cousin and brother too many times to count, and I have drawn all the food there is to draw. Oh, and, please, do not ask me of self-portraits, I am quite horrible at those," she laughed to herself.

Elizabeth suppressed a laugh at the pouty little girl, who beside her Richard was admiring. She smirked knowingly before deciding to have a bit of fun, "Well, my entries are mostly nature as well, but if you must draw something, perhaps my brother would be up to sitting still."

Lady Morton blushed as did Richard, both looking away from the other. Richard running a hand through his sandy blonde hair, ending on the back of his neck when he looked towards Lady Gabriella. His brown eyes looking hopeful.

Lady Gabriella turned back towards the Colonel, shyly glancing up at him, "I would be honored to draw you, Colonel, if it is, of course, alright with you?"

"And me," Lord Morton interrupted good-naturedly, laughing as he teased his sister. Who in turn blushed a deeper red.

"And you, brother. Colonel?" She questioned with the same hopeful eyes Elizabeth just saw mirrored in her brothers.

"If it is no inconvenience to you or your brother?" Richard said bowing his head towards Lord Morton.

"Of course not! Be my guest, Colonel, I think you will be the honored one, however," Lord Morton smiled, praising his sister.

"Brother!" Lady Gabriella blushed.

"Indeed, I think I will," Richard smiled at her.

Elizabeth smiled at the conversation and shared looks between her brother and Lady Morton; if anyone deserved love more, it was her brother. He had always been second in everything, never standing out much, always having to make his own way in the world. Elizabeth always thought that the 'Fitzwilliam' name was more of a burden for him than anything. The more she thought of it, she came to realize the same applied to her as well.

"Perfect!" Her mother exclaimed, interrupting her musings. "Richard leaves soon as well, now we shall have a picture of him to remember him by."

"As if you do not have enough, Mother. How many do you have in the guest hall?"

"Oh, Richard! You do tease, perhaps I do have one too many," Lady Fitzwilliam relented.

"I say, my dear, you have more of him than you do of me, your own husband," the Earl laughed.

Lady Fitzwilliam smiled at her husband sheepishly, "Well, Walter, he looks so fine in his regimentals."

Richard laughed, as did Lady Morton and Miss Hopwood, "As informing," Richard laughed, "As this conversation is, perhaps you should take it into the drawing room?" He suggested as the dessert course was removed.

"Yes, I agree, my dear, we will meet you in the drawing room," Elizabeth's father smiled before leading the men to his study and Eleanor leading the women to the drawing room.

"Miss Hopwood, do you play?" Lady Fitzwilliam questioned.

"Yes, actually, I do. I was blessed enough to have been taught by the same master as my cousin was."

"Yes, and my master is the master of Miss Darcy when she travels to London," Lady Morton added.

Elizabeth froze at the name, taking deep breaths, unable to control herself she asked, "Do you know Miss Darcy?"

"We have met, yes, Celia and I made her acquaintance last season. Her brother had taken her to the opera, she is not yet out, you see, so we have not had the chance to further the acquaintance."

"Gabriella, I heard her brother was here only a little while ago, however, Miss Darcy was not with him. I thought she had told you she planned on coming with Mr. Darcy the next season. Was she not supposed to come out this year?"

"I thought so, Celia, I will have to write to her and ask. Do you know Miss Darcy, Lady Elizabeth?" Lady Morton asked, turning her attention back to both the Fitzwilliam woman.

"Yes, we are good friends. Though, I have yet to see her since arriving home." Elizabeth replied, trying to keep a calm exterior plastered on her face.

"Perhaps you should write to her in place of me then?" Lady Morton thought aloud.

"Miss Hopwood," Lady Fitzwilliam interjected, noticing the down fall in her daughter's countenance. "Would you play for us?"

Miss Hopwood smiled her bright smile, "I would love to, Lady Fitzwilliam."

Miss Hopwood was playing her second song when the gentlemen walked in. Lord Morton took the seat next to Elizabeth on the divan, Richard next to Lady Gabriella on the divan across from them, and her mother and father in two separate high back chairs.

"Lady Fitzwilliam, if you would do me the honor, I would like to extend an invitation to Morton Manor this Saturday, for my sister to be able to draw the good Colonel here."

Lady Fitzwilliam clasped her hands together in excitement, "We would be delighted, Lord Morton, thank you."

Lord Morton smiled and turned towards Elizabeth, looking into her brown eyes with his joyful blue. Elizabeth almost felt bad that she did not return the feelings he so obviously felt for her.

Almost.

She had been hurt too many times to care anymore.

…..

Richard and his father were sitting in his father's study both nursing a whiskey.

"Richard, there is something we must discuss before you depart." His Father began, looking out the large window, hands clasped behind him.

"I am listening, Father," Richard replied casually, though his inner mind was a contradiction to said casualness.

"I have already brought the issue up with your Mother, she was less than pleased. I thought you would like to know as you have always looked after Elizabeth."

"What's wrong? Is Elizabeth in danger?"

"No, no, nothing like that, I assure you. Can I refill your drink, son?" His Father asked.

Richard confused and more than slightly worried slowly shook his head. He knew whatever his father was about to tell him was substantial. Walter Fitzwilliam was never an overly sentimental man, calling Richard 'son' was the equivalent of 'I love you.'

His father refilled his glass and in turn did the same to his, walking back over to the window.

"Richard, you know my health has never been the best, in fact that was the reason your mother and I wed so hastily and had Thomas so soon afterwards. Well, before you and Elizabeth left, things were not looking good. The doctor and myself, both, did not think I had much longer. You, being the second son and already bearing that burden, I could not bring myself to make you Elizabeth's guardian after I was gone. Your mother, of course, would have some say in Elizabeth's life, but as father I have full control of guardianship over all my children. In the event of my death, I would need another male guardian, not only for lawful reasons but to grant a dying man some comfort."

Richard was confused as to where his father was headed but decided to remain silent and listen before asking questions.

"Now, before you ask 'why not Thomas?' allow me to elaborate. Thomas, though, the first born and heir to the Fitzwilliam title, has never been very bright, and he has his own family to look after. I would not have been put at ease knowing my Elizabeth was in his care. He would not know how to care and provide a living for such a free-spirited character. Elizabeth, she is a special young woman, she has always outwitted almost every one of her counterparts. She is bright, and intelligent, and quick-witted, it would take a very smart man, and not in the sense you think, to make my Elizabeth happy." The Earl of Matlock paused, seemingly lost in thought.

"Perhaps this is a conversation for another time, meet me in my study on the morrow and we shall continue it. Then perhaps, we will only need two drinks to finish instead of starting our third," his Father tried to jest.

Richard, knowing it was pointless to push his father, nodded his head and left the room. This was evidently something of large importance and rather difficult for his father to speak of. He would tell Richard when he was ready, Richard only hoped that meant at their meeting the next day.

….

Elizabeth sat in the library at the desk placed by the window, her journal opened to the next empty page. She was staring out the window at the night sky, looking at the lone carriages passing by, the stars covered by the grey clouds. She briefly closed her eyes to the night air blowing in through the open window. She was deep in thought when a strong gust of wind blew, causing the pages in her journal to turn. The leather cover was about to flip closed when she caught writing on the last page in the moonlight. Brow furrowing, she relit the candle she had burning and pulled the window closed. Opening her journal to the last page to look over it. This was not her handwriting, she had yet to make it to the last page. Bewildered she read the fine, neat, masculine writing.

 _My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,_

 _I know this cannot possibly make up for all the letters I did not answer, but it is a start. That mistress of yours was simply jealous of you having been out to sea. I think you would make a sailorman the happiest man in the world were you to marry him. I can see you out there, in the open sea, the salty air blowing through your beautiful, curly hair. Little droplets of ocean water getting stuck in those unruly curls. I miss our time together as well, Elizabeth, more so than you could ever think. Indeed, I had been quite busy November 23_ _rd_ _, 1802. That was the year I had a professor who thought it a good lesson to have class two minutes early every day. A game of sorts he would play, he would see who would eventually catch on. Determining for him who were his most intelligent pupils in his class. It had me quite distraught to show up late three classes in a row._

 _The only reason you sit by yourself, my sweet Elizabeth, is because you intimidate the other girls. What star would want to sit next to the sun? You were always a fast learner, I look forward to hearing you speak the language of love. Poetry, they say is the food of love. Do you not think? I hope you still do not consider me a brother of sorts, it would cause many problems I am afraid. I am the one who must ask for forgiveness in my impropriety, for I am certainly taking a risk with your reputation in writing to you, and so informally at that. My dear, Lady Elizabeth Fitzwilliam of Matlock._

 _I confess I know the feeling quite well, my Elizabeth, you were always someone I felt I could share in my woes. It seems familial obligation is something we both suffer from. It breaks my heart to hear my sweet Elizabeth declare she is beginning to lose hope and to know further yet that I was the cause. I ask in the hope you have lost you can find it in your heart to forgive this love sick man._

 _Only you, my Elizabeth, would yearn for the knowledge of a man's education. Come to think of it, I say you deserve this education more so than half the gentlemen here. I hope it is not below you or too out of character if I were to challenge you in a wooden sword duel? I laugh out right as I write this, the Elizabeth I remember would never back down from a duel, nor a chess match. I look forward to many more after supper treats stolen if you so allow me the opportunity._

 _The concern, care, and love you express over the loss of my parents brings me much solace. Your words alone bring me comfort after all this time. Your heart is too kind, Elizabeth, too sweet for this cruel world. Humanity does not deserve your kindness and sweet spirit. You do not know the many times our memories we share have brought a smile to my face over the years. Anytime I think of your happy face, your jests, your laugh, your witty remarks, all of it, Elizabeth. As I write this, Elizabeth, I smile._

 _Only you, my dear Elizabeth, would study lessons not presented to you, in your spare time. I wince to know I have caused you such pain, it breaks my very heart to know you lost hope in not only our friendship but in me as well. Elizabeth, I do not know how to show you, but your friendship, your letters, they have managed to sustain me over the years. Please, please, do not give up on me._

 _Once we played at love together -  
Played it smartly, if you please;  
Lightly, as a windblown feather,  
Did we stake a heart apiece._

 __ _Oh, it was delicious fooling!  
In the hottest of the game,  
Without thought of future cooling,  
All too quickly burned Life's flame._

 __ _In this give-and-take of glances,  
Kisses sweet as honey dews,  
When we played with equal chances,  
Did you win, or did I lose?_

 _Elizabeth, my dearest Elizabeth, I will not say it here, I will not write a sentiment that holds so much weight. I will not be a coward and hide behind parchment and ink when I express such a devotion towards you. Wait for me, Elizabeth, and I will repeat those three words over and over to you. I will let you know every waking moment how much I cherish and…_

 _Checkmate, Elizabeth._

 _Forever, and always was,_

 _Yours, Fitzwilliam D._

Elizabeth was in tears, only she could not discern whether they were from sadness or happiness. Her heart was erratically beating, she was sure it could be heard beating all the way in the hallway. The window she had only just closed now needed opening. Throwing it open, she leaned out of it, letting the cool night air wash over her overly hot face. So many questions were racing through her mind she did not know where to begin. What did this mean? Had Darcy received her letters after all? Furthermore, why had he not responded? Did this mean Darcy had feelings for her? Why had he never said anything before? Had she not presented him with enough opportunities? And why, if he did have any sort of sentimental emotions towards her, did he leave, with no warning? Moreover, what does checkmate mean?

Elizabeth sighed, sitting back down in her seat, rubbing her forehead. It was all too much, too much to think about, too much to take in. Too much on the line she did not want to give into the hope of a life and love with him. Elizabeth thought it best to put it from her mind for the time being and sleep on it. Perhaps this was all some mad dream. Making her way to her chambers, journal and candelabra in hand. In a daze, she opened the door and made her way to her washroom. Ringing the bell for Lucy as she set her journal in her bedside table drawer. Absentmindedly fingering the last page.

"Forgive me, Lucy, save, could you draw me a bath, please? I am feeling a bit tense."

Lucy, whose dress was on backwards due to the late hour, curtsied, "'Course, my lady."

Elizabeth smiled and began undoing her own dress, or the parts she could reach, at least. Once she had reached the point she would need help, she walked towards her vanity to undo her hair. Pulling pins out left and right before she shook out her long, silky, brunette curls. Her lips turning up in a slight smile at the feel of the weight being let down.

She stepped into the tub of warm water and sighed, letting all her worries and stresses melt away with the steam. She sat there, eyes closed and mind racing over each word of the letter. What would Darcy have meant in his endearments if not affection? A friend does not speak to one in such a way, does he? Elizabeth questioned herself. He could not possibly mean he …? And certainly not in a way more than friendship, could he? She was then led to thinking of how they were not really friends either, yet was there something more between them even before she had left for school? Had Darcy harbored feelings for her all this time, much like she had? If this was so, then why had Darcy refrained from telling her? Elizabeth sighed again before thinking, 'had he tried and I had dismissed his perusings?'

Groaning quite unladylike, Elizabeth stepped from the tub knowing only sleep could help evade her from her train of thoughts. Pulling her nightgown over her head she walked to her mahogany four poster bed and plaited her hair, turning to the side to blow out her candle. Praying she would have some answers in the morning when she awoke, though, she highly doubted it.

 **A/N: Many thanks to my beta, LMFG, again!**

 **Bonjour mes lovelies! Okay so hopefully you enjoyed. Tell me what you all thought, I did not want this chapter to be so dismal like the past eleven chapters. It's about time I had some healing being done. However, healing takes time and with Darcy just leaving it proved to be a bit difficult to have a lighter weight chapter and stick to the storyline. Things from here will only get better, of course you can expect some more bumps in the road but things are looking up. As to Elizabeth's age she was nine going on ten when she left for school. As to the other question about where I am from, I am originally from America but I live in Europe as of right now.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Elizabeth woke up the next morning just as confused as she was when she had went to sleep. Turning to her bedside table, Elizabeth pulled out her journal. Turning to the last page, she began to read again. Biting her thumb nail as she used to when she was deeply concentrating on something. Pulling her knees to her chest and resting against her pile of cushions, Elizabeth paused and took a deep breath. Thousands of questions racing through her mind, Elizabeth removed herself from the security of her bed and walked to her writing desk.

Pulling out parchment, ink, and a quill, she began writing out her questions. Perhaps looking at them in ink would allow her to sort through them properly.

 _Why?_

She tapped the feather to her lips in thought, 'that is quite a vague question,' she mused to herself.

 _What did all this mean … if anything?_

 _Had Darcy received my letters after all and for some unknown reason did not respond?_

 _Does Darcy have feelings for me?_

Though, Elizabeth knew the answer deep in her heart, she could not possibly hope that what Darcy had poured out in the letter was true. Elizabeth again flipped to the last page to make certain that what Darcy had written was absolutely sincere and not simply a maddening dream.

She sighed, though, she know not in what, whether it be in relief or in exasperation. Turning back to the page with her questions, she continued, tossing her long, braided hair over her shoulder.

 _If Darcy did love me, why did he never bring forth his feelings?_

 _Furthermore, in accompaniment to the question above, why did he leave with no warning and no plans to return?_

 _Did he honestly think I would be unengaged if not married next season? Even if I did not want to, my mother was too dead set on marrying off her only daughter, especially when a handsome lord was willing to take me off her hands._

This thought brought about another series of questions, why was her mother so dead set on marrying her off? She knew mothers sometimes became concerned for their daughters, hoping they married well and soon, but Elizabeth was not yet eighteen, she had time. For goodness' sakes, her mother had turned down three or so proposals, why could she not do the same? Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to her parchment, 'one problem at a time, Elizabeth,' she told herself.

 _How long? If Darcy loved me …_

She paused yet again at the thought of such a notion, Darcy, the man she had a tender for since childhood, the man she had grown to desperately love over the years. She knew it was silly, but when he had shown her such tenderness and kindness as a child and had mentally been with her for seven years, her feelings could no longer be repressed. Picking up her quill, she began again.

 _How long? If Darcy loved me, how long had he been repressing his feelings?_

 _When did he realize, he felt the same thing I had been feeling since I cannot remember when?_

Elizabeth was then led into more practical questions …

 _How had Darcy written in my journal in the first place? It was usually always on my person, when had he been alone and for a period of time to have written something so … so impassioned and heartfelt?_

 _And checkmate? What in heavens could that possibly mean?_

 _And what did he mean when he spoke of 'every waking moment,' was that a promise for things to come?_

Elizabeth set the quill down and closed her eyes, dragging her hands down her face and then digging the heel of her hands into her eyes. She sighed, all of this was so very confusing, and she knew it would be impossible to receive answers with Darcy away. She almost laughed at the thought of Richard allowing her to go through him. She knew even before she had finished the thought that that was unattainable. Giving up, at least for the time being, she stood and rang for Lucy before drawing her curtains herself.

"Good morning, my lady, I hope you slept well?" Lucy curtsied.

Elizabeth smiled, "Yes, thank you, I think I would prefer to go on a walk this morning. Mother and Father are not yet awake, are they?"

"No, my lady."

"Perfect," Elizabeth genuinely smiled, "I think the blue dress will be perfect then."

Lucy bobbed her head and headed for Elizabeth's wardrobe and pulled out the plainest dress Elizabeth owned, more than any titled lady should own. It was a 'country' dress as Elizabeth often referred to it as. The only decoration it beheld was a small lace band just under the bust line. Needless to say, it was Elizabeth's favorite gown. Having Lucy quickly tie her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck, she seized her journal and bonnet, purposely forgetting her gloves and headed for the park. A bright smile on her face, the first unadulterated smile she had worn in quite some time.

…..

Richard woke that morning feeling tense and tired, he had tossed and turned all night over what his father could possibly be this vexed over. Not only was he concerned about what his father was to tell him this morning, but he had noticed a certain change in his dear little one. She seemed off in a way, at first, Richard had thought it to be a normal change. One that came with maturity and knowledge, he thought perhaps it was due to her extensive schooling. Seven years was a long time away from a person, a lot could change, but Richard was beginning to realize it was more than a maturity and knowledge amend, it was something more; and as soon as Richard was done meeting with his father, he was going to find out exactly what.

Stepping into his father's study, he found Walter Fitzwilliam sitting behind his large, wooden desk already nursing a brandy. His brown eyes, so much like Richard's and Elizabeth's, looked weary. His forehead had worry lines across it, and in the corners of his eyes he had crow's feet. Frown lines formed the outside of his mouth, and his eyelids drooped ever so much. Richard realized for the first time how old and worn out his father really appeared.

Walter Fitzwilliam lifted a wrinkled hand to his brow, trying to squeeze the tension away. He had felt this way many a time before, thus why it was so crucial he explain things to his son now, for he feared he was not much longer for this world. Giving a great sigh of loss and regret that turned into a nasty coughing fit, Walter looked to his son.

"Richard, have a seat, m'boy," Walter motioned to the seat in front of him.

Richard cleared his throat before taking a seat in front of his father.

"Richard, you must realize what I have to relate to you is of much importance, as it retains to your sister's future. Knowing Elizabeth would be coming home from school at the age of seventeen, I took it upon myself to give her at least four months' time of recuperation before this settlement of sorts was thrust upon her. Now it seems, that, though, I had planned to be long gone quite sooner, things are still to pan out how they should. Richard, you must recognize a dying man when he is sitting before you, I do not have much time left. I know you leave for the front in only a few days now, but I need you to accept the decision I have made for my daughter and help guide her through it. I do not believe my Elizabeth will take this settlement lightly."

Richard was bewildered beyond words and only stared at his father. Walter took a few deep breaths before a single tear slid down his withered face.

"If she does not already, she will surely despise me for this," Walter muttered under his breath loud enough, however, for Richard to catch it.

"Father," Richard finally spoke up, no longer able to contain his bewildered curiosity. "What is going to happen to Elizabeth?"

"Richard, she is to be married." Richard cocked his head, not quite following.

"Well, yes, Father, we all knew she would eventually wed. I did not expect her to be unwed long. I am going to assume it is Lord Morton?" Richard asked before laughing, "Took the poor sap long enough."

Walter put his hand up to cease his son's musings, "No, Richard, it is not Lord Morton."

Richard's brows furrowed, "Father, I do not understand, please, elaborate."

Walter took in another shaky breath, "Richard, allow me to explain. You see, I have related to you once before that I did not expect to be much longer for this world. Then, by the grace of God, I was saved, renewed back to health. It was unexpected but certainly not unwelcome. However, as I said it was unexpected, therefore, I made arrangements for the future as any dead man would," he paused to take another quivering breath.

"As though I would not be part of the near future. It was a month before you and dear Lizzy were to depart that I was sitting in my study with old Mr. Darcy. I was relating to him my woes and worries for my children after my death, specifically Elizabeth. It was common knowledge among the parents that Fitzwilliam Darcy and our Lizzy held each other in a certain tender bond. One that was an adolescent tender, one void of any true feelings, at least at the moment. You see, though, Richard, Mr. Darcy and I could tell that, especially should their friendship continue, these minuscule feelings would develop into something much deeper and certainly more real. Thus the reason we took it upon ourselves, though, I now see how fool hardy and selfish this was, to write and sign a marriage contract."

Richard's face fell from intently listening to one of shock and incomprehension. His mouth opened and shut a couple of times before his father spoke for him.

"Yes, Richard, it is legally bound and contracted that our Lizzy and Fitzwilliam Darcy are, as of Elizabeth's eighteenth birthday, to be married."

"I … I … but … what?" Richard spluttered.

Walter laughed, cocking an eyebrow, "Your reaction was far better than your mother's."

"Mother knows?"

"Of course! I told her only a few days ago."

"Father, is there not a way out of it?" Richard asked, it was not that he did not think Darcy was a good man. He was the best of men, his closest friend, his brother, but with his sister's situation what would that do to Lizzy? What would become of his dear little one? "Well, what did Mother have to say?"

Walter shook his head, remembering his discussion with his wife.

" _What?! How could you do this without my permission? She is my daughter, too, you know! I did not like the idea of her going to that school, but I kept my mouth closed because you are the head of this house, and I realized what that would look like if Elizabeth did not receive proper education. However, this, oh, this is an entirely different matter. Is it still in effect? Does our Lizzy legally have to marry him? Is there anything we can do to get out of it? Why, why would you do this in the first place?" Eleanor half shouted, half whispered._

 _"_ _Eleanor, you know how my health has always been shaky. Even before we wed, I was in ill health, thus the reason for our hasty marriage and hastier parenthood. Right before we sent Elizabeth off to school, Darcy and I talked. I told him how my health seemed to be declining again, that I did not see myself lasting much longer. The doctor had come to see me and said much the same thing.'_

 _'_ _I told Darcy I knew Thomas as the elder and, if it came to it, would take my place as Elizabeth's guardian, but I did not want that. Elizabeth would have hated that, and she already hated me for sending her to school; and Richard, he was just getting started with his carrier. I could not lay another burden on my second son who already bears the burden of that title.'_

 _'_ _So, Darcy suggested a marriage contract, thus insuring Elizabeth would wed a well-off gentleman. You and Thomas would not have to worry about her finding a good man, and one not after her money, or connections, and her dowry, though, I could never see Darcy doing such a thing, would be used in properly making sure she had a living for herself.'_

 _'_ _It was perfect, and Darcy and I agreed that his son and our daughter already seemed to get along so well, neither could complain. So we would not bring it up until Elizabeth's eighteenth birthday. She would be home by then, settled, and out in society, we could play it off as a real engagement, no contract involved, avoid gossip. I thought I would be gone and Darcy figured he would be around to help things transition smoothly, no need to bring it up when we still had so many things to worry about first. So we wrote it up, took it to the law, and signed it, stored it with the rest of our business ledgers to forget about it until Elizabeth turned eighteen."_

 _"_ _Yes, Walter, but you are still here, for goodness' sakes, you two switched places! That must make it void or something, there MUST be a way out of this, Walter," Eleanor beseeched, her grey eyes wide and imploring._

 _Walter sighed, shaking his greying head, "I wish there was, Eleanor, but Darcy and I made it foolproof knowing someone, somewhere would not agree to such a match. Darcy's sister per say, Lady Catherine," Walter paused, trying to recover from his blunder. Cautiously, he proceeded, "She has been wanting Darcy and her daughter to marry for ages now," he quickly added at the skepticism in his wife's eyes. "We wanted to make sure no one could break it in pursuit of their own needs and wants. I looked over it again this morn, I am having a lawyer take a look at it as well this afternoon, but, Eleanor, it does not look promising," he concluded, rubbing his hands down his worn face._

 _"_ _What about buying her way out of it? I have heard of that being done, can we not simply pay the sum?"_

 _"_ _I am afraid not, my dear," Walter replied._

 _"_ _That is ridiculous! I have heard of plenty of men and women buying their way out of a marriage contract."_

 _Sighing he uttered, "I have looked, Eleanor, it simply cannot be done. Forgive me. The only way out of it is for her to wed before she is eighteen, and atop that then there would be a sum to pay. Quite a hefty one, might I add." Walter was blatantly lying to his wife, at least about one thing that is. He could very well pay his way out of it, but Walter thought perhaps he would play matchmaker for once. It only made sense, his wife found a wife for their first son, and he was sure she would find one for Richard, he would find a husband for his daughter. And it was quite obvious that Darcy and his Lizzy had some sort of feelings for the other, all they needed was a push … or perhaps a shove._

Richard stared at his hands, seemingly lost in thought, "Did she say anything else?"

"I did not present her the chance, I left immediately once I perceived the conversation over. A conversation more or less it may be," Walter mused, then drawing his eyebrows together, he looked to his son.

"Though, Richard, I thought perhaps you would find, may I dare say, joy in this situation? Knowing how close you and Darcy are, I believed you would be pleased with this information. I know Elizabeth will not be pleased with this situation, however, I do imagine she will eventual come around. Once again, if I am not mistaken, I believe our Lizzy still has something of a tender for Darcy."

Richard barely heard a word his father had said, still shocked by the news. His Lizzy deserved better, far better than the scandal she would no doubt be caught in. Knowing of Darcy's plans, it would be quite obvious that the marriage bed was relinquished before the marriage, though, it had not. How would Elizabeth, if not the Fitzwilliam family, survive such qualms? She would be ruined, and all for the fall of a beloved sister.

Richard then laughed out right, bitterness and irony dripping from his laugh. Darcy and he were both executing affairs and circumstances on the behalf of their beloved sisters.

"Do you not think, Richard?" his father questioned after awaiting a response.

"What was that, Father? Forgive me, I was lost in thought."

Walter walked to the front of his desk and leaned against it, repeating his earlier appeal. "I thought perhaps you and she would be pleased with the situation."

Still really only half listening to his father Richard spit out, "Miss Darcy is with child."

Walter, his brown eyes growing in size, stared open mouthed in shock. "Pardon me, Richard, but pray repeat that."

Sitting taller in his seat, knowing he could not retake what he had said, repeated his blunder. "Miss Darcy is with child."

….

Darcy had arrived home to find Georgiana sick and keeping to her bed. Her little body had grown with her condition; Darcy found himself referring to it as such. Though not enough for her dresses to be altered. Her lean face, the face of a fourteen year old had rounded and her hair appeared slicker. She was trembling, though, Darcy did not know whether it be from chills or her fatigue. Mrs. Reynolds had told him how Georgiana often woke from night terrors, thus leading to her staying awake.

Omitting her night terrors, Mrs. Reynolds had said Georgiana was suffering from edginess and agitation, which Darcy could only account for the trauma she had went through. Darcy had been over hesitant to leave her in such a state, however, Mrs. Reynolds had urged him to go. Explaining to Darcy that a male presence might frighten Georgiana as of right now. The male servants had been removed to the kitchens, stables, and any work that was out of sight of the mistress. Not only had Darcy left to find a wife, elevate an amount of stress from his sister, but as well as to rid himself of the guilt and depression he had sunk into. The self-loathing and berating of forgoing his sisters safety instead for the running of the estate. He had not realized how lonely and despondent his sister had become till it was brought to his attention.

Darcy shook his head of the plaguing thoughts and hesitantly entered his sister's chambers.

"Georgie?" he softly called, trying not to frighten her. When he did not hear an answer, he poked his head farther into the room. Laying in the middle of the bed was his frail little sister. Her golden locks, much like his mothers, were array, her lithe body was devoured by the purple duvet cover.

Darcy sighed and cautiously walked into the room, quietly moving a chair to the side of her bed, he gently grabbed her pale fingers and held them lightly.

"Georgie," his pleading voice whispered, "I am deeply sorry for the pain I have caused you. I am your brother, your guardian, your protector, and I failed you. I let someone take advantage of your poor, lithe body, Georgie." Darcy hung his head in a dejected manner, "But I am going to make it up to you, sister, I am going to put aside my needs and wants and wed. I have not found a suitable wife yet in London, but I believe I know of someone that will do, Georgie. If she will have me that is," Darcy finished in even more of a whisper.

Once he had sat pouring his heart out to his ailing sister for hours, Darcy headed to his chambers to find escape in his sleep. Only to find his mind and thoughts would not evade him when his eyes were shut, they came painfully forth to the front of his mind. Growling in frustration, Darcy threw the covers that were encasing his body and started pacing his room. Thoughts of his Elizabeth sailing through his mind, had she found his note? If she had, what had she thought of it? Did she have any sort of feelings for him as well? Would she be able to go through the censor and ridicule that would no doubt fall upon her with being his wife? Would she even consent to be his wife, or would she turn him down? Especially after the way he treated her over the years? Darcy could not fault her for it, sighing again he pulled at his long, black curls, reaching just past the nape of his neck.

He knew he was being egotistical, he knew he was thinking of himself in this predicament, but did he not deserve to have some happiness in his life? Everything had been ripped from his hands, over and over again and yet still more. Was it such a maddening request to want Elizabeth for himself, was it completely unthinkable that he could not bear the thought of his Elizabeth being in the arms of another? He could bring her happiness, help her escape the Fitzwilliam name, he could help her recover from whatever it was that so obviously plagued her, he could be her light … just like she could be his.

Georgie's condition was a bump in the road that they could move past, it could not last forever, the gossip and the slander, the crude looks, and they would disappear with time. They, Darcy and she, they could fight it together, just like they always had.

 _"_ _Fitzy, Fitzy, is that you?" Elizabeth called into the dark, empty room of Pemberley._

 _"_ _Go away, Elizabeth! I'm not in the mood for your childish games and nonsense," Darcy said in his best masked voice._

 _Elizabeth, though, slightly offended by the remark, brushed it aside and moved further into the room, closing the door behind her. "Fitzy, I know you do not mean that, I know your father did not mean what he said either. I think he was perhaps only angry and frustrated, and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Not receiving an answer, Elizabeth walked farther into the room and sat next to Darcy in the dark corner by the large window. He was hugging his long legs to his chest, his arms wrapped around them and his head resting upon those. She could hear the distinct sound of his sniffles and could see his ragged breath by the lift and fall of his shoulders. Scooting closer until the side of her body was pressed against his, she began, "You know Mother sometimes utters such nonsense to me as well. I know she does not mean it or sometimes does not realize what it is she is saying. I have to look at it, though, Darcy, as her way of showing love and affection. She only wants what is best for her only daughter. I think perhaps it is the same with your father."_

 _Darcy's sniffling had stopped and his breathing had evened out, Elizabeth smiled, knowing she had won his attention. "You are to be master of Pemberley one day, Darcy, that in of itself is a noble honor I think. Your father simply wants to provide you with the essential tools to effortlessly make that happen one day. One of those tools, Darcy, is university, fear not, though, for you can always write your family, and visit them," then, suddenly shy, she whispered, "and me."_

 _Darcy looked up at that and saw the fallen look upon Elizabeth's little face. He knew her mother tormented her just as much as his father did him. Grabbing her hand in his, he forced her to look at him. Guiding her face with his other hand to look him in the eye, his thumb absently rubbing circles over her jaw._

 _"_ _Elizabeth, it was as you spoke earlier. Your mother does certain … things to help improve you. You are after all Lady Elizabeth Grace Fitzwilliam of Matlock; if that name does not elicit admiration in people now then it will when you come home from school. We may end up separated, Elizabeth, but when I finish uni I will come and visit you, and in a few more years when you finish etiquette school we shall arrange a meeting. Only the two of us, so when I visit you after uni you can see if I improved any, and when we meet just the two of us I can see if you have improved any. Then, wherever we meet up, we can decide if it was all worth it to live up to our names, and if it wasn't …" Darcy cut-off, a mischievous glint in his burning, brown eyes._

 _"_ _We can run away together!" Elizabeth abruptly shouted, going immediately red with embarrassment._

 _Darcy laughed, a hearty laugh that brought flutters into Elizabeth's stomach. She ripped her hand from Darcy's and crossed her arms turning away from him, a sour expression on her pale features._

 _Chuckling again to himself, Darcy grabbed her hand once more, "Elizabeth," he cooed in her ear, "I was not laughing at you."_

 _Elizabeth, growing red again, only this time at the feel of Darcy's breath on her neck, replied, "Then pray, good sir," she spat. "What_ _ **were**_ _you laughing at?"_

 _Laughing again and grasping Elizabeth's face between his thumb and middle finger turned her face to look at him. "Now that I think of it, perhaps I was laughing at you."_

 _Elizabeth's mouth dropped open, closing and opening as she spluttered._

 _"_ _But not because I find you childish or silly," he quickly fixed, "Because of how excited you were at the prospect. Well, it made me happy, Elizabeth," Darcy smiled at her. "No matter the situation, Elizabeth, we will get through it together."_

Darcy smiled at the memory, he had not even realized he had stopped pacing and was sitting at the foot of his bed. Climbing the rest of the way into it, he lay there, curtains left open and looking out the window. "Wait for me, Elizabeth."

 **Who was my lovely beta that corrected all my mistakes and tragic grammar? LMFG, thank you so very much!**

 **A/N: I'm running out of ways to greet you my lovely readers! Your reviews absolutely make my day, you have no idea how wonderful they are and they make me want to write all the more faster, so keep them up! As to the little bit of a wait you had to do I, again, apologize. I just recently made it back home and getting here was quite hectic, not to mention the different time zone. However, I decided to sit my butt down with a cup of tea and write this for you, and now that I am home I will, hopefully be writing more. So, that means more chapters for you and at little to no wait. Enjoy and do not be afraid to comment your critiques and ideas, I take them all to heart. Have a magnificent day!**

 **Much Love,**

 **Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Elizabeth lay in the meadow covered by oak trees. The exact spot she had ran into Darcy the first time after her ball. When they had discussed literature and she had grown scared of how her stomach still fluttered when he smiled. The exact spot she had sat waiting for him in the greying weather after he had come to supper and she had told him how she took a morning stroll through the park almost every day. She supposed that was the night he had written the letter to her. The letter that had left Elizabeth more confused than she had ever been. Her heart physically hurt with all the feelings coursing through it. With every beat it formed a new question, a new worry, a new what if.

Darcy had said, in no certain terms, he was to come back for her, but when? A day? A week? A month? A _year?_ She could be a married woman in a month, in a year. Was she to just sit around and wait for the man? She had done plenty of waiting when it came to him. Was she to refuse any marriage proposal that came her way in anticipation for his? Was he to propose, or was he simply saying something else? But what else could he be conveying if not for a life spent together. And _why_ had he waited until he left London to express such sentiments to her?

Elizabeth did not want to think it. She fought the thought within her. Bursting to break free of the chains she had wrapped around it. Except, it was eating her alive. This question she had thought up in the middle of the night. When her dreams, memories, thoughts plagued her the most. Keeping her from her one escape.

What if she did not love Darcy but simply had an infatuation with him? A childhood tender carried over the waves of time to make her heart believe she loved this man she barely knew. Because when she was honest with herself, she did not know this Mr. Darcy. She knew Fitzy, the lankly, sixteen-year-old boy she had thought was dashingly good looking. She knew the shy, brooding, boy-man whose voice cracked at times when he would get flustered. Her tricky and constant questioning getting the best of him. She knew her brother's closest friend. The one she would make sure her bow atop her head was perfectly tied for. The one she would help win in games of hide-and-seek and blind man. The one she would lash out on when he would tease her or beat her in a duel. _That_ was the man she knew, not this quiet man who brought up literature with her and asked about operas. Not this man who stared at her whenever in his company. Not this man who had received every one of her letters but for some reason had not replied. That is until yesterday, when he answered all of them in the back of her journal, along with expressing endearments she thought impossible for him to have for her. Especially after he made it quite clear how he felt about her a few days before he left for university and she for etiquette school.

She had dreamed of the day Darcy would return her childhood feelings, and now, now that he had, she had to question herself.

But then there were the flutterings in her stomach anytime he was mentioned, let alone when he was in the room. Staring at her across the space between them. Spaced filled with bittersweet memories and broken promises.

There were the skips of beats in her heart when he would smile at her. There were the shallow breaths when she would admire him. Watching his ever changing hue brown eyes. Watching in the early hours of the morning, they were honey dripping from her spoon into her tea. Midday they were this burnt cinnamon mixed with hazel, and at night they were dark enough to rival the black sky. His smile, his ever changing smile. First, it would be this slight upturn of the corners of his pink lips. Him fighting the smile he wanted to let loose. Then, it was this smirk, where the left side of his lips would slide up his defined face. Finally, it was this full smile showing gleaming, white teeth. His upper lip stretched across those teeth, lifting up to meet his cheeks, only for those to rise with his lip. His lower lip cradled into a soft curve. Covering his lower teeth and giving the corners a slight shove up. His eyes were affected in that smile, as if someone had shone a bright light behind them. The rich baritone of his laugh making a small stirring feeling emanate deep in her stomach and vibrate up her spine. Gooseflesh crawled up her skin every time his dark hair would occasionally flop into his eyes, matching his long, dark lashes.

But he was still a stranger, a man hiding behind so many masks she did not know which to believe. She sighed, a stranger who had covertly expressed his love for her. Closing her eyes and letting her lashes kiss her pink tinged cheeks, Elizabeth fell asleep in the tall grass of the meadow. Wishing more than anything to be a wood nymph. Free from the confines of her proper castle.

…

Richard stared at his father sitting up against his large desk. His face was held in his hands as he continued to listen to what Richard was telling him. Georgiana, the sweet little girl blessed to Anne and George Darcy, his godchild, had been … He did not wish to think about what happened to his little godchild.

"Richard, I know you only now explained this, this, whatever this is to me, but I need you to go over it again. Only this time slower. My old heart cannot keep up with the events. Please, from the beginning." His father sighed as he sat back in his chair behind his desk. His withered hands folded under his chin, elbows resting against his stomach. His brown eyes intently looking at him. Sadness and the proof of a weary life hid in those orbs. The lines drawn across his spotted face each told a story wearier than the last.

"Georgiana is with child," Richard began slowly.

"Yes, but how, who more importantly?"

Richard let out a bitter laugh, "I do not suppose you remember a George Wickham, do you?"

Walter's eyes grew in their sockets, making them protrude from his balding head. "No, not the steward's son. Not Darcy senior's godson."

Richard cocked a light haired brow, "The very same, the bastard," he muttered.

"I know he was bit of a randy, but I had thought Darcy had taken care of him. You know, straightened him out. Gave him a good kick in the trousers."

"Afraid he did not kick him hard enough. You'd think giving him the money, and then some that his father intended for the boy in his will would have gotten rid of him. However, it did not. George Wickham is a greedy man if I ever saw one."

The Earl leaned further back in his chair and closed his eyes to hide the pain. "Proceed, Richard."

Richard however, sat taller in his chair before he proceeded. "You see, Darcy had to see to some business in Dorset, which is a good long trip. He had noticed, or so he tells me, that Georgiana had seemed unhappy lately. Not her usual bright self. Knowing his trip to Dorset would be a long one, he suggested Georgie take a trip as well, of course, Dorset was not where she wished to go. Instead longing for a town, to be exact, Bath. One of her drawing master's had come from Bath and talked profusely of it. So did her companion, a Mrs. Young. Darcy, seeing no problem in letting his sister travel to Bath with her companion, consented. Though, Georgiana was not yet out there was still plenty for her to do. The Royal Theater had just opened, and Georgie loved the theater. Hoping it would lift his sister's spirits it was arranged for Georgiana to travel with him and drop her off in Bath. Then, on his way back to Pemberley pick her up.

"Upon arriving in Bath, Darcy stayed with his sister for two days' time before making his way to Dorset. Taking her to the theater on their second night. Tongues wagged and the word was spread of the Darcys' presence in Bath. However, word was also spread of Mr. Darcy's departure. Thus eliciting Mr. Wickham's arrival on the doorstep of the inn Georgiana was staying in.

"Turns out Mr. Wickham was _good_ friends with the beautiful Mrs. Young. He was soon seen having supper regularly with Miss Darcy and her companion, as well as accompanying them to the theater and strolls through the streets. Poor Georgiana did not understand the feelings she had all of a sudden developed for the man. Her brother's friend. Mistaking it for love and letting her guard down around the suave Mr. Wickham.

"Thus allowing him to sweet-talk his way into the young child's bed. She knew allowing him entrance to her room was improper, but when he talked of them wedding she saw no problem with it. However, she did not consent to what happened once Wickham gained entrance into her room. Forcing himself upon her, by the time Georgiana's screams alerted the staff, it was too late. The dreadful deed had been done. Georgiana had passed out from shock and panic when a Mr. Jones broke into her room. Pulled Wickham off her and called for Georgiana's lady's maid. Mr. Jones, Father, is reported to be a weak and old man. Having worked at the inn since he was a boy. Mr. Wickham's head injury was blamed on the impact of his skull and the wooden floor when he was pulled off of Miss Darcy; as to the bruises lining his neck, stomach, and thighs seemed to be in conjunction with Miss Darcy's escape attempt. He died from internal bleeding and improper care of a concussion."

Richard sat silently as he finished, watching his father, whose eyes were still shut. Watching the rise and fall of his chest.

"How did Darcy find out?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"An express was sent to him informing him of the situation. It was not until about a month after the incident did Darcy relate to me his sister's … predicament."

"Did Darcy not send her away to give birth to the child and send it to an orphanage?"

"No, Darcy had, of course, thought of that scenario, however, Georgiana was quite shook up. I fear both of them blame themselves for what happened. Forcing both of them to feel as if they have let the other down. Darcy was afraid sending her away would cause her to believe he was punishing her. You must understand Miss Darcy is in quite a fragile state at present."

"Of course, who would not be?" his father shortly answered, eyes still closed. Chest rising and falling in slow, methodic movements/ heaves.

Richard, not liking the way his father still had not grasped the concept, pushed forward. "So Darcy decided to wed and claim the child as his."

Richard waited with bated breath. "I understand your concern, Richard, I do. However, I still think Elizabeth marrying Darcy, as was written years ago, is the best solution."

"How can you say that?" Richard asked, his voice rising. "How could you make your only daughter the subject for so many gossiping tongues, disapproving glares, and reproachful smirks? Elizabeth does not deserve this." Then, much quieter, "Elizabeth cannot handle this."

"Richard," his father began, only to be interrupted by a coughing fit. Richard stared in stunned horror as it grew more violent. Watching as his father began to clutch his desk in an attempt not to fall out of his chair. His brown eyes bulging out of his head as he searched for air.

"Father!" he shouted as he raced to the man and lifted him from his seat. Walter clutching at his chest where his heart lay, gasped for air. His coughing growing more intense.

"Room," he gasped, "My room," he gasped again between coughs.

Richard silently nodded and half helped, half carried his father to his chambers.

"Help! Someone help! Send for the doctor! Someone help!" Richard shouted, ending in a whispered, "help," as his father's eyes began to roll into the back of his head. "Stay with me, Father! Damn it! Stay with me," he cried as he pulled his father up the grand steps, a footman rushing to aid him. Lady Eleanor stumbled into the entry hall and fell to her knees in dismay. Tears streaking her face as she saw her husband being dragged up the steps while he coughed violently.

"Walter! Walter, Walter," she repeated over and over again. Not having the strength to crawl to her feet. Not having the strength to follow her son up the steps as he dragged her half dead husband to his room. Not having the strength to accept the fact that she might be a widow. Not having the strength to comprehend her one love might be sleeping in a grave in a few days' time.

 _Lady Eleanor Marie Lawrence had first laid eyes on the Viscount of Matlock when she was just eighteen. He had sandy blonde hair that was cleanly slicked back. Brown eyes filled with mirth as he laughed at something his father was telling him. They had been at the annual Solas Stello Noctis ball. She had been out in society for two years and had caught many an eye, but never had one captured her heart. She knew it was a silly, ideal thought, but she could not help it. Not when she had been raised on romantic novellas, for that was all she was allowed to read in her home, and poetry. However, poetry is often claimed to be the food of love. Therefore, when her heart skipped a beat as his brown eyes landed on her, she was caught._

 _He had smiled at her, his brilliant eyes shining as they took in her appearance. She could still remember the gown she wore that night. Midnight purple with a bejeweled corset and full skirt. Her newest piece and most expensive. Little diamonds glittered from the bodice mimicking the normally star-filled sky. Her gown compensated for the lack of stars in the sky that night, as did her smile._

 _She had watched in hesitant silence and held breath as he made his way over to her. His golden brown eyes never leaving her grey ones. She blushed as his lips swept over her hand in greeting before she was swept onto the dance floor. Beaming as he led them in the last dance of the night … a waltz._

…

Darcy woke the next day in a haze. His mind confused as he replayed his dream. The dream was one mixed with a memory, a memory he had subconsciously changed to fit how he had desired it to be. He groaned, running his hand down his stubbly face. He had been a mess since arriving at Pemberley. He had almost crumbled at the sight of his sister, weak and despondent. Her face grey and hallow, her eyes sunk in her sockets. Her once beautiful, golden straw hair was limp and greasy. When he had held her small hand, he felt as if he was only holding bones. The only thing that kept him from thinking her a corpse were her shallow breaths. The slow, close to nonexistent, rise and fall of her chest. And, of course, the only part of her that seemed to have any fat or meat on it was her growing stomach. Barely visible through her night dress, but it was there. That _thing_ growing in his weak, sickly sister. Killing her from the inside out.

Darcy had the family physician over at once, of course, but the man could do nothing. Darcy had waited for the man to leave before finding the closest thing to throw against the wall and mimicking his, "All we can do is wait. Time is the only solution to this problem." Breaking a priceless vase, before falling to the ground in desperate tears.

 _'_ _Wait for what, though?'_ Darcy had asked himself, ' _her recovery, her death?'_ Throwing the covers from his body, Darcy removed himself from his four poster bed. Pacing the floor, his head in his hands. Making himself feel worse was the fact that, though, his sister lay possibly dying in a few rooms over, all he could think of was Elizabeth. Whether she had received his letter, whether she would accept his advances, whether she would forgive him for his past misgivings. On top of his stress over his sister and Elizabeth, it was his dream that bothered him the most.

He sat at the edge of his bed. Dressed in only his trousers and an undershirt rolled at the arms to his elbows. The top half untied as he ran his fingers angrily through his tousled hair. He closed his eyes as he thought over the dream. How, if things had really played out the way they had in his dream, perhaps, things would have been different with Elizabeth. Instead, he had been cruel and harsh when she had been kind and tender. The flashback hit Darcy head on.

 _"_ _Fitzy, Fitzy, is that you?" Elizabeth called into the dark, empty room of Pemberley._

 _"_ _Go away, Elizabeth! I'm not in the mood for your childish games and nonsense," Darcy said in his best masked voice._

 _Elizabeth, though, slightly offended by the remark, brushed it aside and moved further into the room, closing the door behind her. "Fitzy, I know you do not mean that, I know your father did not mean what he said either. I think he was perhaps only angry and frustrated, and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Not receiving an answer, Elizabeth walked further into the room and sat next to Darcy in the dark corner by the large window. He was hugging his long legs to his chest, his arms wrapped around them and his head resting upon those. She could hear the distinct sound of his sniffles and could see his ragged breath by the lift and fall of his shoulders. Scooting closer until the side of her body was pressed against his, she began, "You know Mother sometimes utters such nonsense to me as well. I know she does not mean it or sometimes does not realize what it is she is saying. I have to look at it, though, Darcy, as her way of showing love and affection. She only wants what is best for her only daughter. I think perhaps it is the same with your father."_

 _Darcy's sniffling had stopped and his breathing had evened out, Elizabeth smiled knowing she had won his attention. "You are to be master of Pemberley one day, Darcy, that in of itself is a noble honor I think. Your father simply wants to provide you with the essential tools to effortlessly make that happen one day. One of those tools, Darcy, is university, fear not, though, for you can always write your family and visit them," then, suddenly shy she whispered, "and me, like you promised you would."_

 _Darcy, suddenly feeling the need to show how much pain he was in to another, retorted, "Write a silly child? And a girl at that, HA! Do not make me laugh, Elizabeth."_

 _Elizabeth's brown eyes flashed with hurt, "I do not see a problem with writing a friend," she replied in a quieter voice._

 _"_ _That is because you are ignorant of the ways of the world, Elizabeth. You would not see a problem with something so, so preposterous! You know why, Elizabeth?"_

 _Tears were clearly gathered in Elizabeth's eyes but she stared defiantly back at him. Darcy almost told her to simply go away seeing the hurt in her brown eyes. Instead, feeling the need to feel bigger than someone for once, he continued, "Because you are a horrible little girl. You always act improperly, you play with boys, you get mud on your clothes, you race around and duel, and always let your hair down. And you think I have not noticed your pathetic feelings for me? I am sixteen, Elizabeth, and you are not yet eleven. Why would a man like a child? Especially, when I am to be out in society this year. Where, might I add, I will be surround by woman, not little girls, who act like little boys. You will never be a lady, Elizabeth, even if you tried. Even your name could not make you a proper lady. Same goes for your looks, you will always be tolerable but never handsome enough to tempt me!" Darcy finished feeling proud, in charge, and powerful. He was getting tired of Richard's little sister and it was time someone put her in her place he reasoned with himself._

 _He turned to look at the little girl and watched as she fled the room. Her dark curls cascading down her back bouncing with each step. Her silent cries unbeknownst to him as she flung open the door and escaped from the bitter man._

 _Darcy watched in half agony, half regret. He sighed before throwing his head back down on his arms and letting new tears fall. Letting them wash away the horrible words he had spit at the child, knowing full well that he was still a child himself._

Darcy had wished the version, the dream version of the situation, would have been the reality and not the cruel memory he just relived. "Master Darcy!" Mrs. Reynolds shouted behind the locked door of his chambers. Banging on the wood with her fists, "Master Darcy, you must come at once! It is Miss Darcy, sir!"

Darcy was up in a heartbeat. Racing to the door and fumbling with the lock. His hands shaking as he tried to unlock the damn door.

"Call for the physician, Mrs. Reynolds! Have every able, female servant tending to her! I do not care what is the matter with her I want every able person helping her!" Darcy shouted through the door still trying to unlock it. When his shaking hands had finally unlocked the door, he raced down the ornate hall to his sisters chambers where silence met his ears. He stopped lifeless in the hall. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, anything was better than this dead silence. Her screams, shouts of agony, and pain would be preferable to the grave silence. He was on his knees when a maid walked from the room with sheets in her hands stained with crimson blood.

….

Richard sat in the hall with his crying mother. Tears threatening to spill from his eyes as well. His arm was slung over her frail shoulders as they shook with her chopped breathing. The family physician had been with Lord Walter Fitzwilliam for over an hour. No word had been spoken as of yet, however, Richard and his mother held on to the belief that no word was a good sign. Meaning he was at least living.

The sun was at its highest point in the clear blue sky marking the time to be noon. The weather was too bright and cheerful for the events passing in the Fitzwilliam manor at the time. Birds continued their cheerful song, the sun shone brighter than it had any other time in the year, and the blue sky was open unto the heavens.

Lady Fitzwilliam could not help the bitter thought that crossed her mind, ' _Everything will be as it was when he is gone. The world will not care, not notice when my beloved departs from this seemingly ignorant world. However, I will notice because he is my world.'_

Another hour passed, the clock chiming to one in the afternoon. The physician still had not come out. Lady Eleanor's head snapped up at the sound of her husband's cough ceasing. Her hands began to shake more violently and her eyes filled with fresh tears. The handkerchief in her hands threatening to rip as she twisted it tighter and tighter. Richard noticed, too, and his grip on his mother slackened before grasping her more tightly.

The door to the Earl of Matlock's chamber creaked open. Everything moved in slow motion, the creak of the door not reaching their ears until it was half open. The door's movement not reaching their worried eyes until the creaking reached their ears. The small man was not looked upon until he stood directly in front of the pair and his voice shook their dazed expressions.

"He is living," the little man spoke as though he were speaking to a child. A strangled sob interrupted him.

Richard looked from the little man down to his mother who looked … blank. Her face was void of any emotion except for the tears staining her pale face. She put up a mask to hide her emotions or deny the truth of the situation. Richard was not sure which one.

"Please, continue, Doctor," Richard urged.

Clearing his throat, the Doctor began anew, "He is living, however, I do not expect for much longer. He is weak, and his heart is slow. I advise you to say your goodbyes now before it is too late."

Richard let out a breath he had not realized he was holding, "Of course, Doctor, thank you."

The little man nodded solemnly before gathering his case from the floor and following one of their house maids to be shown out.

Richard looked down again at the broken woman in his arms. She seemed smaller, frailer, not at all the woman he grew up with. He had never seen his strong, determined, blatantly honest, wise mother look so, so meager in comparison to the woman she was.

"Mother," he urged, "Mother, perhaps you want to go in first?"

Eleanor motionlessly dragged her eyes to meet her son's golden brown orbs. So much like her husband's, everything about Richard reminded her of her husband. She gave a slight shake of her head, "You go."

Richard nodded and looked at his mother one last time before stepping into his father's room.

Walter was laid flat on his back staring at the ceiling. His eyes seemed blank and his breath seemed labored.

"Father?"

"Lizzy," he croaked, "Where is my darling Lizzy?"

Richard's face dropped as he realized in the intensity, in the madness of things no one had seen Elizabeth. He had not seen her all day. "She will be here soon, Father." Richard lied seamlessly so as to not upset him into another attack. They did not have much time with their father. Richard needed every second.

"I'm going to send Mother in while I go fetch Elizabeth. Stay put, Father," Richard whispered at the end. Meaning something completely different as he walked out of this dying man's room. Perhaps for the last time. He needed to find Elizabeth and before his father left this world.

…

Darcy paced back and forth in the long, decorated hall of Pemberley. He had been waiting for three hours outside his sister's door. First, it was the physician who came, who in turn called for the midwife. Darcy could not help the burning rage that boiled in him at the thought of the child living and his sweet Georgiana … not. He knew he would have to act like he loved the child. He knew he was going to have to teach the child the ways of Pemberley if it happened to be male. He would have to pass over his own son one day, if God willingly gave him one as _his_ son. The bile that rose in the back of his throat stung as he continued to pace. That thought brought back bitter memories of his father loving _him_ more than his own son. His father putting _him_ in his will when it should have just been him, his son. His only son, the only one he should have taught how to run an estate. The only one he should have paved the way for. The only one he should have put in the will. The only one he should have loved.

Darcy shook his head of the resentful thoughts. His father loved him, yes, but there had been a part of his father's heart meant for him, taken by Wickham.

 **A/N: My beta is better than your beta, (just messing around) but in all seriousness she's amazing, so thank you LMFG!**

 **First allow me to apologize for the wait. I had this chapter typed and waiting to be finished and revised when I began reading over it. I hated how it turned out, thus making me delete the whole chapter and start over. I am pleased to say I quite like how this one turned out. I don't love it and feel it could have been better, showed better emotion in some places but ah well. I also suppose it's a bit of a filler chapter but all very important too. It shows how Elizabeth isn't the only one dealing with ghosts and starts the process of building up to the answers of some of your questions.**

 **LEAVE REVIEWS: give me some ideas and constructive criticism it all helps.**

 **Much Love,**

 **Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

 _'_ _My heart did heave, and there came forth, 'O God!'_

 _By that I knew that thou wast in the grief,_

 _To guide and govern it to my relief,_

 _Making a scepter of the rod:_

 _Hadst thou not had thy part,_

 _Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart.'_ *

Elizabeth was awaken by the gentle shake of her shoulder. She let out a low groan before allowing her brown eyes to flutter open. She was met by blue, piercing eyes, a crooked nose, frowning pale pink lips, and wavy charcoal hair.

"Miss, miss are you well?"

Elizabeth scrunched up her face trying to block the now setting sun. Her eyes squinting and rolling as she tried to wake herself up. Covering a yawn and leaning herself up against her left elbow, she clearly looked at the man in front of her. She had never met this man before. His face was unfamiliar, but not disagreeable. The man stood up from his crouched position as Elizabeth sat up.

"Miss, please allow me to assist you."

Not quite aware of her surroundings, still being in the haze of sleep, Elizabeth nodded. Grasping the man's big, calloused hand in hers as he helped her to her feet.

"Thank you, kind sir."

He looked Elizabeth up and down from head to toe but in a way that felt familiar and safe. "Please, Miss, I must know if you are well. I stumbled upon your still person when I was riding my horse through the meadow," he paused, chuckling, "I must say, you gave my horse quite the scare."

Elizabeth looked around her not noticing a horse before. That is until her eyes fell upon a blonde horse tied to one of the low hanging braches of the oak trees just a ways over. The horse was one of the most beautiful horses she had ever seen. Still slightly confused, Elizabeth looked up at the man. Processing his question, "I am well, thank you for your concern. You have been most kind. Pardon me, but do you know the time?"

The man smiled kindly before pulling out a silver pocket watch. Engraved on the front the letters H.T.A.

"Seven twenty-eight on the dot, Miss."

Elizabeth's eyes grew in alarm, "Oh no, oh my, oh, oh," she muttered to herself as she began to walk in the direction of home.

"Pardon me, but is something the matter? I know you said you are well but are you well both… physically and mentally?" he added as an afterthought to her confused face, odd mutterings, and the scene presented before him only a little bit ago. Being as it was not often one stumbled upon an enchanting woman sleeping in a meadow in the beginnings of evening. Indeed this had never happened to him before and he was wondering, if perhaps, he was mad.

Elizabeth looked up at the handsome man once more, stopping her hurried walk to look back at him. Not insulted in the least at his questioning, though she ought to have been.

"Oh yes, I am well, thank you. However, something _is_ very much the matter. You see, I fell asleep, and you must realize how improper and a complete disregard for propriety that was. This very moment someone could spot us and think something of it. Leading to a forced marriage, which I cannot speak for you but I can for myself and I did not wish for such a thing. I did not intend to sleep the day away, and quite literally at that. However, the warm sun on my face and the calming sounds of nature's quiet song lulled me into a deeper sleep than I meant. My family must be worried sick, excuse me, but I must be getting home. Oh! And thank you very much for waking me."

Seeing as the beautiful wood nymph was walking away from him he called, "Wait!" the man with the sea blue eyes and crooked nose all but shouted. "I did not catch your name."

Elizabeth allowed a small smile slip up her mouth, "Elizabeth," she breathed.

"Elizabeth," he repeated as she started to walk off again. "Well, wait just a second!" he shouted yet again, picking up his pace to catch up to the odd woman who fell asleep in the meadow. Her simple blue gown swaying slightly with the calm night breeze.

"How am I to call on you if I only know your Christian name?"

Elizabeth let out a giggle at the man's persistence. Quirking a brow she questioned herself, _"_ _A giggle, when was the last time I giggled?"_ "You must realize sir, with the," she paused looking between them, "Circumstances in which we came into each other's company it is hardly proper. Therefore, I think it is in both our best interests to end the acquaintance here. Thank you so very much, again, for waking me. My family is indebted to you, but I must be going." She smiled before hurrying off once more.

Watching, the man frowned as he looked upon the creature he had only read about in myths, walk away. The setting sun resting in her brown curls. Some, from which had escaped her up do in sleep, cascaded down her back. Her slender neck visible in the casting glow leading down to straight, drawn shoulders and furthermore to a petit but curvy figure.

Shaking his head, the man watched as she walked out of view. Vowing to meet with this enchanting wood nymph again. Hoping he had not simply been dreaming.

…..

Elizabeth walked into her family home to the sound of silence. Cocking her head she could not help but think how odd it was. Had her family not noticed her absence? Was it not past supper time? Surely they must have realized she was gone, right? Frowning she noticed that the footman was not at his station, and not a servant could be found. Brows furrowed, Elizabeth made her way to her chambers to change. Ringing the bell for Lucy as she shut the door behind her. Pulling the rest of her hair from there constricting pins she set about weaving her fingers through the long locks. Enchanted by what she saw in the mirror. Her hair reached her mid-thigh rolling in curls up to the top of her head. Thick locks that gave her more headaches each day with the growing weight as it was thrust atop her head day after day. However, Elizabeth found she quite liked the pain it presented. The pain it presented was one she had control over. She had a choice in something. Unlike her scarred hands, unlike her scarred mind, unlike her scarred heart. She had power over this pain and it made her feel something. Something she could not quite explain but something she reveled in.

A gasp brought Elizabeth from her thoughts. "My Lady! We have been worried sick. Where have you been?"

Elizabeth turned to see relief flood her maid's features. "I accidently fell asleep in the meadow. I hope my parents are not too overwrought with worry? I am well, only a bit burnt by the sun's hands and perhaps a few grass stains. Nothing time and- Lucy what is the matter? Can you not see that I am well?"

A strangled sob left Lucy's throat before she could stop it, "It is your Father, My lady. He has fallen ill."

Elizabeth's eyes grew in dismay and disbelief, "Is…Is…he is?"

Understanding her lady's mutterings she shook her head, "No" a pause, "Not yet."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with unbridled tears, a sob, much like the one Lucy had let lose, escaped the clutches of her throat.

"We tried to find you, my lady, Colonel Fitzwilliam went looking for you and has yet returned. We did not want to alert your Father anymore. He was asking for you. Colonel Fitzwilliam put him at bay when he told him he was going to retrieve you. However, that was about five hours ago, my lady."

Elizabeth's hands shook. Her lower lip trembling. The only noise she heard was a distant buzzing, as if a bee had nested in her ears. Her eyes fought the urge to blink, instead flickering over unseeing eyes.

Lucy stood staring at her broken mistress. She had watched over the course of only a few months' time as her mistress sunk lower and lower into a black pit of despair.

But it was not her place as a servant to say anything… it would never be her place to say anything.

Now, as her mistress stood trembling with not just the weight of her Father's impending death, but the weight of the battles she has had to fight, she is about to lose the inner war.

Letting out short puffs of breaths and wetting her lips with her dry tongue, Elizabeth brought her hands together. Firmly pressed against her stomach as they wrung themselves. Lucy thought she might rip the little skin she had covering the bones of her hands off. However, Lucy knew, she knew that the scars tracing her lady's delicate hands kept her skin together in disarrayed seams. She had seen countless times as she plaited, brushed, and fixed her lady's hair, applied her pearl power and lip wax, eye paste, and rouge. The way her hands would twitch, especially her left, to the point her lady would have to set down whatever object it was she was holding for fear of breaking it.

"Please, send a servant to alert my brother that I am well and I am home."

"Of course, my lady," Lucy bobbed a quick curtsy and left the room.

Elizabeth's forgotten request of helping her change cast from both their minds. Closing her eyes and letting everything from her mind, Elizabeth stood silent. Reveling in, perhaps the last time, of peace granted to her. Still wetting her lips with her dry tongue, Elizabeth made her way to her Father's chambers. Thoughts and memories rushing through her dazed mind.

…

She was four and had fallen down and scraped her stockinged knee. The blood from the gash running down her pristine white stockings and ruining them further. She cried, not from the pain, but from the thoughts of her yelling Mother. Her Father had found her hiding in a wardrobe in the blue room in Matlock. Her knees drawn to her chest and new tears washing away the dried ones. He had wordlessly picked her up and brought her close to his chest. His bushy mustache tickling her cheek as she cuddle his neck. He had calmed her and had a maid bring bandages and a fresh pair of stockings all the while she sat on his knee. He had whispered silly stories into her mass of curls as he wiped clean her cut and placed a thick piece of material over the wound. White to match her stockings. He helped her shimmy them back on, kissed her forehead and sent her on her way. Smiles playing on both their lips.

She was six and Darcy and Richard had finally excluded her from one of their games. 'A game just for boys,' they had said, 'she could play the next game.' Arms crossed, lips puckered, and eyebrows drawn she stomped her way to her Father's study. Knocking three times, as was custom manners, and barging in. Despite the sound of two other male voices. Two men, her Father's age, turned and looked at the intruder. Scowls making their faces contort into ugly features. However, the Earl of Matlock only laughed at their obvious displeasure at being interrupted and smiled at his princess. "My dear girl, what has your little face scrunched up in such a manner?" He asked as she continued to stomp her way to him. The Earl leaning one foot over the other arms crossed against his large desk, smiled. The two men on either sides of the room staring down at her. Some other little girl would have been intimidated and ashamed, not Elizabeth, however. Though Elizabeth was not like other little girls. "Papa, Richard and Fitzy have deemed it inapprofriate," The Earl laughed openly as his little girl struggled with the pronunciation of the word. "Inappropriate," he gently corrected. Her little brows scrunched further at the interruption before continuing. "Inappropriate for me to play their new game. They said, and I quote," she said lifting her head and nodding it once, "Lizzy, this is a game for boys, and you, obviously,' they snickered Papa, might I add, 'are not a boy." The Earl again smiled at his princess who was so distraught over not being included. "I see my dear girl, well I suppose you will simply have to spend the day with me," the Earl said in a way that made it seem as though it was a horrible fate. When in reality he knew it was one of Elizabeth's favorite ways to spend her time. His eyes twinkling as his daughter's brown ones lit up, "Really Papa, really? I may stay with you?" The two men's scowls deepened as well as the Earl's laugh. "Why, I would not have it any other way, princess." Elizabeth's smile covered her entire face as well as warming her Father's heart before she rushed into his arms.

She was eight and had been sitting with her drawing master for over three hours as they tried, yet again, at a nature scene. Elizabeth had re-done the same drawing twelve times now, and every time it turned out wrong. The tree was too skinny or too fat. The pond was too smeared or too splattered. The birds were too flat or too big. The sun was erased from the scene on the sixth try, as were the birds. The only thing she was to draw then paint was a pond, grass, a few trees, and only _one_ bird. Her master had given up watching over her shoulder on the ninth try. Instead, choosing to work on something of his own as he waited. His distraction seemed to do a world of good as Elizabeth slid the paint brush over the canvas one final time. "I am finished," she had simply said, not yet releasing her held breath. She was not going to be able to last a thirteenth time. Her master hesitantly walked over and gazed upon his pupils work. His mouth forming a growing smile, "Perfect Elizabeth, simply perfect." Indeed it was far from perfect, but for Elizabeth, and for her master, it was. Her face lit up at her master's praise and she turned to smile at him. He let out a puff of air before smiling back at her. No one could resist such an innocent smile. "May I show my Papa? Please, please?" she begged, brown eyes wide and lower lip cast out. Her master sighed before granting his permission and before he could tell her to fetch him she grabbed the canvas, hugged it to her chest and ran from the room. Her master sighed as his head fell into his hands. She raced all the way to the library were she knew her Father was and burst through the door. "Papa! Papa! Papa, look what I painted. I drew it and painted it all on my own. My drawing master said it was simply perfect," she all but beamed. The Earl of Matlock smiled at his little girl as he set his book aside. He knew his Lizzy was no artist, but it was mandatory she tried to at least learn. He knew she grew bored of the tedious task and was quite often daydreaming during her lessons. So with this news the Earl gave her his undivided attention, not that he always did not. "Well let me see Lizzy dear, this masterpiece that is sure to hang in the halls of Matlock estate for generations to come." Elizabeth smiled before turning her painting around to show her Father. He chuckled a bit before commenting, "I quite agree with your master, Lizzy, it is simply perfect." Elizabeth smiled so big her face began to hurt and she could barely see out of her squinted lids. "However, it is you, my beautiful girl, who is the true masterpiece." Elizabeth cocked her head and drew confused brows before looking down at herself. Her pink day dress was covered in green, blue, and brown, with a bit of black from the bird. Tears gathered in her little eyes as she turned her canvas towards her. Her masterpiece was smudged and smeared. Leaving only a faint idea of what the scene was. "Come, Lizzy, sit on her Papa's knee." She dragged herself and the painting over to her Father and crawled into his lap. Cuddling her face in his neck as he kissed her cheek, his bushy mustache tickling her face. "Elizabeth, please darling girl, do not cry. Your painting is more perfect now than it was. You know why that is?" Elizabeth shook her curly head. "Because now it has a personal touch. Now it is Elizabeth Fitzwilliam's." She sniffed before looking up at her Father. "Papa, I did try, just as you asked me too. Now it is all for not." The Earl grabbed the canvas from her blue-green hands and held it up. "Come with me Lizzy." Her Father stood from his chair bringing Elizabeth with him. They walked all the way to his chambers where he called for a servant to bring a nail to hang a picture. Sitting in between the two posters of the headboard of his bed hung Elizabeth's picture.

She was nine and she had found Darcy crying in an empty room in Pemberley. She had gone to cheer her friend up, but was instead insulted and yelled at. Tears streamed down her face as she aimlessly ran through the halls. Not stopping until she ran into a very hard leg. She fell onto her bum and looked up to find a very concerned Earl. "Elizabeth, why are you crying child?" Elizabeth's lower lip only trembled and her eyes refilled with tears before she could answer. Frowning, the Earl picked up his little girl and hugged her to his chest. She cuddled his neck as he walked with her through the halls to the library sitting down with her in the high backed chair. She crawled further into his lap tucking her little hands under her chin and resting her head in the crook of his neck. He wiped the rest of the streaming tears from her red face and pet her hair. Running his hand down her curly mane. Picking up the book he was reading on the side table he opened it and began reading aloud. The book was a book of poetry, and one Elizabeth would forever claim as her favorite.

 _'_ _But since thy breath gave me both life and shape,_

 _Thou knowst my tallies; and when there's assigned_

 _So much breath to a sigh, what's then behind?_

 _Or if some years with it escape,_

 _The sigh then only is_

 _A gale to bring me sooner to my bliss.'*_

She was ten and it was her birthday, a large group of people covered the back of the Matlock estate. Chatting and sipping champagne in toast of the birthday girl. Children ran wild and chased one another. Elizabeth laughed freely as she spun in circles, arms outstretched, loose curls flying behind her. Her lips stretched in a smile as she lifted her face to the beaming sun and closed her eyes. She spun and spun and spun until she spun right into a familiar figure. Her Father smiled down at her before picking her up under the arms and twirling her in the air. She gleefully giggled all the while. Her arms outstretched, "Papa, Papa! Look, I am a bird!" she laughed. The Earl laughed along with her nodding his head in agreement. Ignoring the judgmental glares people were throwing them. The Earl as well ignored the look his wife sent him along with Mr. Darcy senior. He wanted to enjoy his daughter's bright laughter at least one last time. Without anything weighing on her little shoulders. He continued to spin her around before setting her down and kissing her cheek. She let out a giggle as his mustache tickled her cheek. Then, all of a sudden, Elizabeth threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. Whispering in his ear "I love you, Papa." The Earl only kissed her cheek again as a silent tear slid down his cheek past his nose and into her burnt curls. He would wait till tomorrow to tell her the news. Let her enjoy one more day of being wild, rambunctious and free. His little princess.

….

Elizabeth shook her head of the memories as she arrived at her Father's door. She had not realized she had stopped calling her Father Papa when he had sent her off to school. She frowned at the thought, _such wasted time._ She was about to knock three times, as was taught to her, before she heard the sound of voices. Her mother's voice in particular.

"Walter, Walter do not leave me. What am I to do without you? I know, I know our marriage has not been the same since we sent our Lizzy off to school and Richard off to the service, but I cannot lose you. I cannot imagine a world with you not in it. You brought, you bring," she corrected quickly, "Joy into my life. You make me want to make you proud of the wife you chose. Of all the woman, all the woman in England and you chose me," She stopped abruptly. Most likely to calm the tremor in her voice.

Elizabeth pushed the door open the slightest bit to see her Mother, Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam, on her knees at the side of her Father's bed, grasping his withered hand tightly in her two small ones.

"You chose me and I let you down. You looked to me to save you and instead I saved my reputation as a lady, as a mother, and a wife, not a loving wife. Not the wife you needed me to be." She stopped once more to let out a humorless laugh, "And I then had the nerve to blame you for my own down fall and wrong doings. I put all the weight of the guilt I felt on your shoulders. I constantly placed self-doubt in your mind. I eventually led you to believe it was your fault for sending our Lizzy away. I … I … I killed you." She muttered in a strained whisper, "I killed you over the course of our marriage with my little implants of self-doubt in your head. I killed you with the sad and scornful looks I sent you when guilt would creep into my mind and leak out of my eyes. Now I understand. Now I see why you pushed me so hard. You wanted a no, you wanted me to tell you no so you could blame it on your nagging wife. I should have seen it, but I did not, and now I have failed you and I have failed her."

Elizabeth's forehead crinkled, _what is Mother talking of?_

"Walter, do you not see? Do you not see that is why I have pushed this engagement with Lord Morton?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she realized her Mother was speaking about her. Elizabeth then had an internal debate with herself as to whether she should continue to listen to a private conversation. She, in the end, decided that she would indeed. They were talking of her, and Elizabeth had spent seven years of her life wondering why they would send her away. Their most beloved daughter, when they had the connections and money to hire school masters for every subject she learned in etiquette school. Elizabeth deserved to know. Perhaps this was what she needed to heal? Answers to her long thought questions.

"I thought, if perhaps, Elizabeth married a well off gentlemen, then the schooling, the wasted years, the longing for our only daughter over those years, would come to a worthwhile end. However, it seems as though I have failed in the ways of being a mother as well. And now Walter, I am the only parent she will have. A wife who failed the man she loved, and a mother who failed the child she loved. I am simply a failure, Walter. I could not even save the life of the man who saved mine."

Elizabeth stared into the void. Not quite comprehending what her Mother had only now said. She was the reason Elizabeth went off to school. It was not a question, it was a statement. Her Mother was the reason she spent seven years in self-doubt and constant low self-esteem. She was the reason behind the scars lacing her delicate hands. She was the reason…

Elizabeth was so lost in thought and shock for the next ten minutes she did not see or hear her Mother leaving the room. Making her Mother walk straight into her.

"Elizabeth? Oh, Elizabeth! Where have you been?" Her Mother asked as she stepped out of her Father's room, shutting the door behind her, and into the hallway. Discreetly wiping her blood-shot eyes and running nose. Her greying hair was in disarray. Pieces flying and falling down from the tight bun she wore it in. Her purple day dress was stained with tears and what Elizabeth could only assume was mucus. She did not, in the least, look the part of Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam. She did not look the part of the woman Elizabeth had called Mother for years. She instead looked the part of a broken and worn woman. For the first time Elizabeth's Mother looked her age. She looked like her life. The lines coating her face, neck, and hands were a map of her life, and she wore it freely now. Elizabeth stayed stock still as her Mother waited expectantly. "Lizzy, are you well? Richard went out looking for you but has not returned. We were so worried!" Her Mother tried again taking her hands into hers.

"My Heavens, child! Your hands are ice, and you are shaking. You are not well." Lady Eleanor fretted, wrapping her arms around her daughter and hugging her. Rubbing soothing circles on Elizabeth's back.

Not noticing how Elizabeth had not hugged her Mother in return, or had not spoken once, or had not stopped staring into a blank nothing. She continued, "Come, we must get you into bed with a hot broth, tea, and maybe some bread and warm you right up," breaking the hug and walking down the hall expecting her daughter to follow. Acting as if nothing was amiss, as if her Husband was not dying in the other room, as if she had not just confessed to ruining her marriage and only daughters life, and as if Elizabeth had not been lost and was being searched for. She had discreetly put on her Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam of Matlock mask and it was not coming off.

"You did all of this," Elizabeth muttered still looking blankly down the hall.

"What was that, darling?"

Elizabeth turned around to face her mother before repeating, "You. Did. All. Of. This."

Lady Eleanor scrunched her eyebrows, "Elizabeth, darling, did all of what?"

Just then they heard Elizabeth's name being called from her Father's chambers.

….

Darcy sat in a decorative chair adorning the halls of Pemberley waiting. His knee was bouncing, his hands running through his hair over and over as his head went from being between his knees and staring dazedly into nothing. His thoughts were everywhere. One minute on his sister who could possibly be dying in the room across the way. The child within her both killing her and surviving or it dying taking his sister with it. And his Elizabeth. His beautiful Elizabeth.

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes fighting off sleep and tears. He hoped Elizabeth received his letter. He hoped she had received the note he sent to the manor as well. Telling, mainly her, that he would be back. He would be back before the season ended, for her. He knew it was selfish, he knew, but the thought of Georgiana dying and either taking the child with her or not, he could not fathom being alone. No, not alone, he could very much fathom being alone. He could not, however, fathom marrying someone other than Elizabeth to keep the nightmares away, to help him keep the depression and emptiness away. He needed Elizabeth, whether Georgiana made it or not, and whether the child made it or not. Elizabeth was his crutch, and he could not walk, let alone live, without her. Forget the need to marry to cover up the condition of his sister. There would be slander upon the Darcy name no matter the circumstances. Either his sister was to be found not to be innocent any longer or whomever Darcy wed would be found to have forgone the marriage bed. The situation could not be won either way. Why not allow a man his happiness if he is to be sent to live hell on earth.

The high pitched scream coming from the room across the way brought him from his reminiscing's. His breath hitched and his heart rate sped up not knowing if that was a scream from a child who had been taken advantage of, or the scream of a babe who was motherless.

' _Thy life on Earth was grief, and thou art still_

 _Constant unto it, making it to be_

 _A point of honor, now to grieve in me,_

 _And thy members suffer ill._

 _They who lament one cross,_

 _Thou dying daily, praise thee to thy loss'*_

 **Hello my lovely readers, reviewers and all around beautiful people! So here is Chapter Fifteen, excuse the grammar errors. I am pretty positive there are more than normal. I am sleepy, ready to go to bed, and I had an extremely long and eventful day. However, as you have all been so faithful to me and (especially the people who have been here since Chapter One) I decided to gift you another chapter. I realize though that I sort of left you at a cliff hanger, sorry about that. Not too sorry though because I know what's going to happen so it does not bother me, cue evil laughter. I am a nice person I swear. (: Review, I need to know what you think. When I do not get reviews and faves I start to question my writing.**

 **P.S. I changed my summary from what it was due to the fact that this story has become something I never thought it would. I feel the summary did not do it justice. So now you know and happy reading!**

 *** The poem is titled** **Affliction** **by George Herbert**

 **Lots of Love,**

 **~Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Elizabeth took a deep breath before opening the door to her Father's chambers.

"Elizabeth, wait!" Her Mother called before she could step inside the room. "Your hair, child, your hair," Lady Eleanor fretted, trying to place her daughter's long, thick hair into a bun.

"Leave her be Eleanor. She is only coming to see her Father," Walter shouted through the door.

Lady Eleanor frowned but let her daughter enter the room with her hair down and cascading around her.

"Eleanor, please see to it that no one disturbs us. Elizabeth and I have much to talk about." The Earl finished with a great cough.

Her Mother frowned again before nodding and shutting the door. Once in the hall she contemplated listening in on their conversation. Knowing Walter was to speak with her about her school, the reason they did not visit, the pushing in the direction of marriage her first year out, and the marriage contract. Lady Eleanor scowled at the last part. She did not like Darcy. She would rather her daughter marry a clergyman than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. She stuck her nose in the air, knowing the talk would be far too long to listen in on, and walked towards her chambers to fix her appearance. She was the lady of the manor and she must always look the part. Her husband on his death bed or not.

…

Darcy pulled at his long, dark, wavy hair in agony. He could not handle the stress, the not knowing, the impending sadness that he knew was soon to overcome him. Three maids had walked out of his sister's room after the blood curdling scream he had heard, all three carrying something different, but equally worrisome. The first, more pristine white sheets covered in a dark red which could only be blood, but whose blood, is what made Darcy sick. The second, a wash basin filled with soiled rags. Making the water turn from its clear state to a brown sort of foggy color. Darcy did not want to know what had made this happen. The third, the third made him have hope, it may have been a sick, twisted kind of hope, but hope none the less. The third carried out a rather large basket, and peeking just out of the top was a yellow blanket. Looking clean and fresh and not soiled in any way.

Darcy had, of course, tried numerous times to capture someone's attention. However, it seemed as if each and every one of _his_ staff was ordered to not speak a word to their _master._ Darcy wondered if they realized he could cast them out on the streets in a blink of an eye. He sighed, even he knew he would not do such a thing. Which meant his staff knew this as well.

Throwing his pounding head into his hands Darcy closed his eyes. Taking deep breaths in and letting deep breaths out. _In_ and _out. In_ and _out. In…_ and… _out. In…_ an- Darcy very slowly breathed himself into a restless, devoid of pain, slumber.

….

"Elizabeth come closer. I am a dying man. I am not going to bite," Walter said with a small chuckle.

Elizabeth fidgeted with her hands and looked down at her feet uncomfortably all the while chewing her bottom lip raw. Her long hair cascading forward and covering her like a black curtain.

"Elizabeth," Her Father coaxed.

Elizabeth looked up to meet her Father's eyes for the first time since she arrived back in London. Making it almost two months since she had come home. Two months she had avoided looking straight into the eyes that had held hers as he sent her on a boat all alone. Never to see those eyes again for seven years.

Still chewing her lip and wringing her hands, Elizabeth walked to the edge of her Father's bed.

He sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Closer still, Lizzy dear."

Hearing her shortened name Elizabeth's breathe caught. Tears began to stream down her face but she quickly stopped them. She would not show her Father weakness. She would not show him the pain she had suffered for so long. Still suffered. She swallowed heavily before inching closer. She know stood beside his bed where her Mother had kneeled and wept. She could see her Father's sheets damp from her Mother's tears.

"Please, Lizzy, sit," the Earl motioned for her to sit down beside him. Elizabeth slowly shook her head before unconsciously sinking down onto the bed. Her Father's death bed.

Walter smiled up at his little girl. She had changed so much. Her cherub face had grown longer and thinner. Now presenting the profile of a very beautiful woman. Her button nose had grown only the slightest to match her angelic face. The slight dash of angel kisses that used to dust the bridge of her nose had disappeared to leave a flawless face. She had grown into herself, and the end result was breathtaking. The man she gave herself over to would, indeed, be a lucky man. Her eyes, however, had changed the most. They were still the wide, brown, doe like eyes of his little girl but they were no longer innocent. They were no longer filled with life and wonder and the want, the need, for knowledge. They were dull and pained and scarred beyond her years. The life had, quite literally, been beaten from those beautiful eyes. He winced at the thought. He knew, to some extent, what Elizabeth had gone through in those seven years. He was not blind to the way Mistress Etta ran her school or the way Elizabeth's hands would shake at odd times. The way she would quickly tuck her left hand under her right as it twitched. Hiding the pain it caused under an indifferent mask. The Earl frowned. This was all his fault.

"Lizzy, I do not know where to start. There is much I must disclose to you. You must know, Lizzy, what I am about to divulge is not easy. I am ashamed of myself. I did not mean for any of these events to unfold the way they have, but I cannot change the past. Though I dearly wish I could. You must know, Lizzy dear, how desperately I wish I could. You are my only daughter, my little princess, and what I have put you through brings great agony and mortification as well as remorse to my very soul and heart. I have not been a good father to you Elizabeth, and for that I am deeply sorry."

Elizabeth sat listening to her Father confess his wrongdoings to her and could not help the jolt of pain that shot through her heart. She looked down at her twisted hands letting a single tear fall as another crevice made its home in her heart. The two people she should have been able to count on in her life. The two people who should have loved her unconditionally had hurt her the most. Making her the shell of a woman she was now. First her Mother's vague confession and now her Father was admitting to her how all this was his fault when in reality it was both of theirs.

She looked up at her Father to see him staring brokenly, dejectedly back at her. His face contorted in pain as he held off a coughing fit only making it more violent. He held his handkerchief up to his mouth as he coughed uncontrollably into it. His initials delicately embroidered on the right corner. Her Mother's handiwork. His melancholy eyes never leaving her desolate ones. One pair weary beyond their years and the other dead beyond theirs. Fate being cruel as both pairs used to be a lively chocolate color now a dispirited brown. The color of mud after a heavy rain and just as bleak.

Her Father lowered the handkerchief, and to Elizabeth's great astonishment, there, staining the white 'kerchief, were little blotches of scarlet blood. Elizabeth tried to hide her gasp and wide, fearful eyes but her Father caught them. Laying his withered and aged spot hand over her left one he looked into his daughter's eyes. He could see how hard she was trying to hold back her tears. Just as she once did when she was a little girl. However, she could not hold them all back as one tear slid down her pale face. Walter reached up placing his hand on her cool face and with his thumb he gently wiped the tear away. That single movement was the key to the lock and Elizabeth's face fell into the crook of her Father's neck as she cried her heart out. She cried for all the times Darcy was cruel to her as a child. She cried for all the times she was never good enough for her Mother. She cried for all the times she had to spend hours in the nursery with mistresses and masters while Richard and Darcy gallivanted about. She cried for the time Darcy had made her feel small and inadequate, much like her Mother made her feel. She cried for when he told her she would never be beautiful and to recover from her child feelings for him for they would never be returned. She cried for the day after her tenth birthday when her Father told her that he was to ship her off to an unknown place for who knew how long to become the lady everyone was desperate for her to be. She cried for all the time she wasted waiting for Darcy to write her back when she most needed a friend. She cried for all the times she was simply punished for being a curious soul. She cried for all the times her left hand would twitch, tingle, or sear with a burning pain. She cried for the woman she had let herself become and how she did not fight for the one she had dreamed to be. She cried for her Father and how he now laid on his death bed and how selfish she had been in holding a grudge against him. She cried for all the wasted time, and finally she cried for all the past tears she had previously shed.

As Elizabeth's tears slid down her Father's wrinkled neck, the Earl's tears slid into her mass of curly hair. The Earl cried for the lost time with his beloved daughter. He cried for not being a stronger man and putting his foot down on the subject of Elizabeth's schooling. He cried for not being a stronger person in general and how his weak health had caused Elizabeth her own turmoil. He cried for the daughter that had died on the day after her tenth birthday. He cried for his wife and how she had let the fixations of this world consume her, and finally he cried for being a coward and hiding behind his title as The Earl of Matlock, as a father, and as a man in concealing his reasons and secrets from Elizabeth.

"I am a coward, Lizzy. You deserved so much better, you _deserve_ so much better, so much more. This life has not been kind to you Lizzy, and I am the reason for it," the Earl let out a strangled sob as he continued to let his tears run free. Crying as he felt his daughter's shoulders shake in silent agony.

Not moving from her position between his neck and shoulder, not wanting her Father to see her so weak, she asked in a muffled sob, "Why?"

The Earl's tears only ran faster as she did not try to deny his own rebuke against himself. Taking stuttering deep breaths the Earl's tears began to slow. He was about to speak when a coughing fit took hold of him, making Elizabeth sit up but only to cover her face in her hands as more sobs escaped her. When the Earl had overcome his fit he, once again, looked upon his daughter.

"At the time, Elizabeth I believed to be doing the right thing."

The pregnant pause that followed left the Earl in great turmoil. Elizabeth needed to hear this. She needed to know why, to be able to have proper closure. He knew if he did not carry on rather quickly Elizabeth would flee. He knew her fragile heart could not handle much more.

"Elizabeth, there will come a time when you have your own children that perhaps you will understand a bit clearer my reasons. Elizabeth all I ask of you is for you to listen. Keep an open mind. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but grant this dying man one last request." He barley saw her nod her head as her face was still buried in her hands. Her little shoulders bobbing up and down.

"You see, Elizabeth at the age of fifteen I was diagnosed with a long term illness. The doctors do not have a name for it and with that said know not how to treat it. My Father was put into a difficult positon. I, being the eldest and only son, was the heir to the Matlock name and fortune. No second son to bear the title. The Fitzwilliam name would have died with me. So a plan was put in motion. I was to forgo university and instead make my debut as a gentlemen at the age of fifteen. My Father, who was strongly against buying a home in London due to the lack of privacy, purchased a manor in London for my sake, of course. My great uncle Rogers on my mother's side, a widow and childless, came to stay with me. Show me the ropes, one could say, of London society. I went three years spending each day in London out in the park, at the theater, at balls, soiree's etc. trying to meet a woman whom I could start a family with. It was not until the fifth year in London did I meet the perfect woman.'

'You might be wondering as to why I did not settle with the first woman who set their sights on me. Long term illness, the doctor predicted at least ten years. I wanted to find a woman to love if I was only to have a few more years left on this Earth. I married your Mother within the month and she gave birth to your eldest brother ten months later. Someone to carry on the Fitzwilliam name. You must realize it came as quite the shock when I surpassed ten years by five, then ten, then fifteen. Your Mother and I decided on making our family larger as it did not seem likely for me to pass very soon. I was in excellent health and had never felt better. The calm before the storm one might say.'

'We were blessed with another little boy and I could not have been more elated. You, however, my dear were quite a surprise. My heart the day you were born grew two sizes with how much love I felt. Staring into those wide, innocent, chocolate eyes. Beautiful! I swore that day to give you the best life any little girl had ever received." The Earl paused as he sucked back in his straying tears. He inhaled deeply and returned his gaze to the ceiling.

"Your Mother would be right in saying I should not have allowed you as much freedom as I did. When you were younger, younger than seven years of age, it was appropriate for you to play with your brother and his friends. However, come the age of seven I should have told you 'no.' The blame lays in me. I simply could not tear you apart from the relationship your brother and you shared. So, if that meant allowing you to play with boys and learn some boy games then who cares. You two are my pride and joy, anything to bring smiles to those faces. I always fought with myself, covering my faults with the good things I did. I had hired you the best educators in all the subjects a young lady should have, I lent you woman's literature from the library. Even if a few negotiable ones were placed in the pile as well. You enjoyed them and your mind comprehended the content so well, it would have been a shame to see such a brilliant mind go to waste with silly romance novellas." The Earl scowled still gazing at the ceiling.

"I thought I was doing everything right. That is until our family went to visit the Darcy's and Anne Darcy's sister was present, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Wretched woman. She did not care about the impropriety of letting me and your Mother know how inappropriate and unladylike we were raising our daughter. At the time I did not care, it was not until just a month before Richard was to leave for His Majesty's army that my health began to deter. The doctor and I were both in agreement as to how much longer I had. When you are a dying man things you would not have thought of come to mind. Things such as who the guardian of your children will be once you are dead and gone. Which, in this case, would have been Thomas. I love your brother very much, as he is my first child and the heir to the Fitzwilliam name, but he is very dull and very witless. I would not die a happy man knowing you were in the care of your eldest brother in the time of your womanhood, a crucial time for it is when you pick a husband. Knowing Thomas he would let you settle for any old gentlemen as long as he had a title and money. I wanted to grant you love, my dear girl, for it is one of life's sweetest treasures.'

'It was when all these things were making a home in my head when the Darcy's came for a visit at my bequest. Stating, in gentle terms, that I did not foresee having much longer. I was relaying to Mr. Darcy senior my concerns and worries for my youngest child when he came forth with the idea of a marriage agreement," at this the Earl paused. Elizabeth had yet to be told for it was only this morning Richard and he had been discussing it.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy and I wrote and signed a marriage agreement between Mr. Fitzwilliam George Darcy and Lady Elizabeth Grace Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth, whose face had been buried in her hands, stilled. Her arms falling to her sides and her gaze fixed on the wall. Unseeing and unhearing. She stood from the bed and began pacing. Back and forth, back and forth. Hands moving from her face to her sides to her head to her stomach. Clenching and unclenching causing her left hand to begin to twitch. The scars being stretched across her palms. Tears demanded to be set free so urgently that she began to hyperventilate. Painful pants escaped her lungs and her chest convulsed.

Her Father watched in a stunned horror as his daughter fought to breath. Pulling the rope beside his bed and yelling for help he continued to watch the seen before him. His daughter's long hair was being mercilessly pulled from the roots in agony. His daughter panted like a dying dog for breath. Tears streamed down her scarlet face and her nose ran. Her hands were pressed into her ribs as she hyperventilated. Short in and out breaths mixed with a choking sound. Walter tried to keep the scene from sending him into an attack of his own. There was still much to say and he knew one more violent attack would be the literal death of him.

…

Richard arrived home in time to see servants racing up and down the staircase, from one side of the manor to the other. He had ridden all over Hyde Park in search of Elizabeth. Corralling a small group of men to search other areas for his dear little one. Upon reaching the two hour mark Richard had begun to worry. Questions making his heart drop into his stomach. Questions he refused to believe happened to his dear little one. His heart did not stop racing until he happened upon a man in the meadow sitting under a large oak tree writing. He had inquired of the man whether he had seen a woman with curly brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, short and thin but curvy at the same time. The man's eyes had lit up causing Richard's heart to plummet and bob simultaneously. The man had gone on to say he had in fact seen a woman of that description. His exact words being, "Ah, yes, I did indeed see a goddess on earth. One of the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon. Indeed good sir, do you know her?"

Richard nodded, "Yes, she is my sister. She has wondered off and I have been searching for her. Could you tell me when it is you last saw her?"

"But only a few short moments ago. She seemed in quite the hurry. Something about her family in particular being worried sick. I do hope everything is well. Oh, pardon me, I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Hugh Theodore Alexander of Bath."

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of Matlock, a pleasure. Excuse me but I must be making my way back."

"Oh yes! Of course. Except…well, I realize the timing may perhaps be ill but would I be able to call on your sister? When I found her she was asleep and seemed a bit mixed up."

Richard turned on his horse and raised a finely trimmed brow. Completely disregarding or not hearing the fact that his sister had fallen asleep in a meadow.

"For her wellbeing of course, nothing more than a man in want of assuring a lovely woman's health," He chuckled uneasily.

Richard had hesitantly nodded his head in the affirmative and took off for the manor. Letting out a small breath of relief in knowing his dear little one was well. _Now if she can make it back in time to talk to Father_ , he thought racing off through the park.

"Excuse me, but what is all the commotion?" Richard asked one of the bustling servants. "It's…It's not Father is it?"

The young girl carrying a bowl of lukewarm water hesitantly shook her head. "No sir, the master is still…well still. It is the Master's daughter who we all be scurryin' around for. Poor Miss simply passed out there in the Master's chambers. Every servant has been ordered to help nurse her back to health, sir. Strict orders from the Master. The good ol' Doc is up there with her now, sir."

"Thank you," Richard unconsciously spoke moving around the girl to the staircase headed for his sister's chambers. _The breath was let out too soon,_ Richard chastised himself.

….

Walter lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, a single tear falling from his right eye. _How much more pain was he to throw upon his beloved daughter?_ The situation he realized only continued to plummet from the settlement. Everything, his daughter's whole miserable life, was the consequences of his actions. His wife and he had indeed been selfish parents to their children. The tear fell faster when it was bumped by another. He had sat helplessly watching his daughter go into a fit of nerves. She had stood hunched over, one hand resting against the wall the other clutching her chest fighting for breath. Walter could only sit and watch in confound horror as his daughter gasped one last time before crumbling to the marble floor. He could not even throw the blankets from his body in an attempt to reach her as his muscles were too weak. He remembered shouting her name and clutching his covers in a vain attempt. He had screamed in agony as he watched as two male servants had carried her out of his chambers and down to hers. Not aware either way if she was well or not. Watching and desperately praying his daughter, his beloved princess was well. Eleanor had rushed to his side once Elizabeth was carried from the room frightfully tried to calm him down.

Walter continued to gaze at the ceiling as the events that had only occurred moments ago replayed in his head. Eleanor had left to change for bed and told him she would be back within the hour. Walter's eyes began to droop in a feeling of exhaustion. Although this feeling, this tiredness, was not one he had every experienced before. The feeling of close to peace, the weight of the world dropping from his shoulders.

He let his eyes droop closed off and on before realizing what was to soon happen. The Earl, with melancholic like movements reached for a quill, ink, and parchment and began to write his last words.

…

Darcy had been eagerly awaiting any word as to his sister's health for seven hours. Pacing back and forth between the halls and sitting in the uncomfortable, highly decorated chair bouncing his knee. His eyes began to fall in his weariness when he heard a slight clear of a throat. He immediately stood up to find Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper, standing before him.

"Mrs. Reynolds is she…please, please tell me it was not Georgie," Darcy pleaded looking deeply into the old woman's slate blue eyes.

A sad smile slipped upon the woman's withered face, "Twas not Miss Darcy, sir."

The relief which overcame Darcy was enough to remove all feeling from his legs causing him to fall to the ground on his knees. Tears of happiness and appeasement poured from his hazel eyes. He began to cry harder when he felt comforting arms wrap around him.

….

Elizabeth woke with a throbbing pain in her temples and a heaviness in her stomach. Quickly turning to her tableside and discarding the contents of her stomach into the bowl. The action increasing the ache in her head. Groining she laid back against the many pillows and fell back asleep.

…

Darcy hesitantly walked into his baby sister's room. She was laid in the middle of the massive bed with the covers pulled around her. Her golden hair tossed in a disarray of locks. Her little hands clutched the tips of the covers and her eyes never left Darcy's. Blue and bright like his Mother's. She was the spitting image of Lady Anne Darcy. Many a man's hearts she would indeed break.

"Georgie," Darcy croaked stopping a few feet away from her bed. Darcy had yet to actually speak with his sister. Upon arriving home Georgie was always sleeping and when she was not Darcy was busy with the running of a grand estate or sleeping himself. He had, of course, talked to her, simply not with her. He had not the faintest idea what to say, before he left he believed to have been doing the right thing, the honorable thing. Now he was certain all he had done was cause his sister and himself pain. Pain that could have been spared in this world so full of it. He had thought himself wise in listening to what the other female species was saying in the regard to how Georgiana would handle men. He had stayed away in fear of causing her harm. Instantly he realized how utterly wrong he had been. Georgie had needed him. She had needed the love and care only family could give her to help her through her difficult time and he had abandoned her in the hope of helping her.

That aside, he now had not the faintest idea what to say to a woman whose child had just passed. Though the child she had yet to meet and the child of a sinful act it was her child none the less. Her child which almost killed her had it not been for the Doctor and midwife. Though, Georgie would never be the same, for how do you talk to a woman who can no longer bare children in a society that makes it their job?

"Georgie, I…I…I do not know what to say," He sheepishly admitted.

His little sister gave a faint smile, "Fitzwilliam, please sit down. You are making my head hurt from having to look at you from so high up and so far away."

Darcy nodded before walking closer to her bed to take a seat in the chair by her head. Georgiana turned her neck to gaze upon her brother. The faint smile still tracing her lips.

"I have missed you dearly, brother."

Darcy stared her back in the eye, his masked emotions on display for her to see, "And I, you as well. Georgie, you must allow me to tell you how sorry and ashamed I am. Had I not simply kept you here for the nine months and done away with the child then we would not be in this predicament. Georgie, I…I thought what I was doing was the right thing. I thought by marrying and claiming the child as my own I could show you how contrite I am over letting this happen to you. I would have never gone had you-"

"Fitzwilliam, I do not wish to hear your apologies when I am the one who should be apologizing. However, I feel what is in the past is in the past and we would not do well to dwell on it. We have both made mistakes, yes, but our intentions were good and I believe our course was all in God's hands. I do not know what the reasoning is behind all this pain and misfortune but I do know something beautiful shall come from the ashes. Be patient Fitzwilliam and you will be deeply rewarded."

Darcy stared at his little sister in awe with wide, unbelieving eyes. "When did you, sister, become so wise?"

Georgie let out a little laugh, "When one is alone for four months, hiding away in a home with one-hundred twenty six rooms*, including a grand library, it seemed a shameful waste."

…

"Richard, what do we do? I cannot bear to see her in this state once more and if we tell her she will surely have a repeat performance." A sob and heavy breathing. "She will believe it to be her fault and it's not, Richard. This is none of her fault she needs…she needs," Eleanor trailed off as her tears consumed her.

"Mother, I think perhaps the best course of action at the moment is to let her rest, regain her strength, and proceed to tell her. We may then go from there, but I highly suggest my earlier proposition. She does not favor London, Mother. She has been away from Matlock for far too long, almost eight years. She needs to go home, from there I recommend giving her the letter after the news has sunk in some. She is going to need time Mother, and pushing her out into society will not help."

Another high pitched sob and the ruffling of dress fabric before all sound ceased once more and Elizabeth was cast back into a blank nothingness.

….

Darcy sat at his desk in his study penning a letter to Richard after spending the rest of the day with Georgie before she needed rest.

 _Richard,_

 _I will not hesitate to be forthcoming. Georgiana is well. The child has been lost in complications with both child and mother. So it seems as though I do not need to wed after all. However, I plan to do that exact thing. I plan to ask for your sister's hand in marriage upon my return to London. I know what I promised Richard but it seems I cannot hide the feelings I have always held when it comes to her. Please understand I have tried, in vain I have tried, but I also have this odd sense of hope when it comes to Elizabeth. I contemplate the thought that perhaps, Elizabeth and I may be able to heal each other. I know what she has went through to some small extent Richard, even if you have been too blind to see how she struggles. However, you cannot be so blind as to not see how she has changed in temperament and mind. Aspects such as these do not change in a person such as Elizabeth unless they have physically been beaten out of her. I fully comprehend the fact that had it been Georgiana I would wish to be blind to the change in such a beloved sister, I believe I did the very thing when I found out about Georgie being with child. I believe that to be the reason I fled, but Richard she needs help and healing which I believe I can give her. With my predicament out of the way I can provide the life and home she needs. I will of course, in the end, leave the sole decision up to her, but as my closest friend I thought you should be aware of my intentions. I ask in the hope of that friendship you will give her this other piece of parchment, a letter for her. You are certainly allowed to read it being Elizabeth guardian of sorts but please see to it that she receives it. I will be in London in ten days' time._

 _Fitzwilliam Darcy_

….

Elizabeth woke again for the third time from the black nothing that consumed her. Her eyes fluttered at the light streaming through her curtains. Squinting and bringing a hand to her forehead she groaned.

"Lizzy? Lizzy, darling how are you feeling?" Lady Eleanor's voice broke through Elizabeth's silent thoughts.

Her head turned, a confused expression upon her genteel face, "I am well. Mother, why would I be unwell? I do not, well, I cannot exactly recall anything since…since." Elizabeth trailed off as she looked upon her Mother's worn face and into lifeless eyes. Recognition crawled up Elizabeth's face and tears brimmed in her eyes.

Her breathing caught as she looked up at the ceiling, grasping the sheets, "He is gone," it was not a question it was a cold and lifeless truth, a statement.

She felt cold, boney fingers wrap around her hand. Out of instinct she pulled away drawing her hands to her chest. Tears may have been falling from Elizabeth eyes causing a chain reaction and triggering her Mother's tears. However, that was not the case. Lady Eleanor's tears were brought forth with the emotions of regret and remorse for her lost love and her lost daughter.

….

Thomas Fitzwilliam the now Earl of Matlock arrived three day later to say goodbye to his Father and console his Mother. Though Richard could clearly see the light shining in both his wife and his eyes at the prospect of his new title and all it brought forth to him. Richard knew Thomas would allow Elizabeth and his Mother to stay living with him and his family now that the estates all belonged to him. However, Richard was staring to see the wisdom of his Father's thought process in wedding Elizabeth off to Darcy. Three days and Richard was looking forward to leaving for the war front, which he was able to postpone due to circumstances. Elizabeth would never last and Richard feared what she might do to escape in a world not made for woman and the state of mind she was in. Once his Father's funeral commenced he would write to Darcy and inform him of his impending visit to Pemberley with Elizabeth. There was a wedding to plan and loose ends to tie up.

 **A/N: TADA! Bonjour mes lovelies, I hope you are all having a blessed day! Hopefully you liked it because I am a bit on edge with this chapter. I do not know if I like it or not, for a bit I contemplated re-writing the whole thing. In the end I decided against it and hope the next chapter will be better. I am just as impatient as you are to get to the romance! *que little girl squeal* Suggestions are always welcome as are reviews they make my day. OH! And I just wanted to say I love some of your guy's usernames they make me laugh.**

 **Lots of Love,**

 **~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Elizabeth lay in bed with her Mother sobbing next to her. Her face held a dazed expression. One Elizabeth was getting used to seeing on her own face. She wanted to cry. She wanted to feel some form of emotion that her beloved Father had passed, but her mind was in a state of numbness. She could not even muster the self-pitying thoughts of 'it was all her fault, she had killed him.' The only thought running through her head was her impending marriage to Mr. Darcy. She was in a turmoil of emotions, she did not know what to feel.

One side of her was bursting with a child-like glee at the prospect of marrying the man whom she had loved since childhood. However, the other side of her was in despair. She could not help but realize that this marriage was another thing ripped from her hands. She was being forced into it. She had no say. She knew such things as arranged marriages were quite common in these times but she had thought.

Elizabeth sighed, of course such things would apply to her as well, why would they not? She was not something special, she was another Lady in the English court. She was another woman in the English society. Why should she not be tied off to a man against her will as well?

Elizabeth sighed again before turning to her side, her Mother's sobs still echoing in her ears.

"Mother, if you would not mind I would like to rest," Elizabeth muttered into the pillow.

Eleanor sniffled before reaching out to rub her daughter's arm before thinking better of it. "Oh! Yes, of course, Lizzy darling, anything. I will check on you in four hours' time. Ring the bell if you should need anything."

Elizabeth only nodded still facing away from her Mother awaiting for the telltale signs of her departure. Once the door gave a telling click Elizabeth turned towards the windows. The curtains were drawn but she could see the sun shining through the sheer inner curtains, the outer ones pushed off to the sides.

Turning her mind back to the problem at hand she continued. However, Elizabeth also knew that it was Mr. Darcy and he was not a stranger, at least not really. He was the man she had thought she loved. Who she still might love. He was the man who was her very best friend as a child, next to Richard, but there were things she could tell Darcy she could never tell Richard. This is what she had wanted for the longest time but now, now that it was being forced upon her it caused this from of…of resentment. She resented her Father for again making decisions about her life, and she was beginning to realize how mad she was for being in love with a man who so obviously did not return her feelings. That is until she had a proper education and had become, as her Mother put it, a most bewitching young lady, did Mr. Darcy _decide_ he was in _love_ with her.

She moaned, but it was Mr. Darcy, her Fitzy, her childhood friend, her first and only love. She had forgiven his misgiving time and time again but now, now when he had no choice either in the situation she could not forgive him. What was her problem, why was she feeling this way? She did not want to. She wanted to put all her thoughts and feeling aside and simply be overjoyed at the prospect of marrying the man of her dreams…but she could not.

She could not.

Not when she did not have answers, not when she did not even know the reasoning behind this marriage agreement. Not when she had yet to speak to Darcy.

Growling, she threw the restricting covers from her body and threw her legs off the side of the bed. Her vision blackened as she rose too fast and she had to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths to steady herself. Once she had regained her vision she pattered toward her writing desk. Her journal neatly tucked in the left door under the false board.

Dipping her quill in ink Elizabeth began writing.

 _Father has passed. He lived a good life I believe. Defying the perceived notions of his life span. He had a loving and doting wife and three beautiful children, including two heirs to his title. What more could a man want in life? Father told me, before he passed, that when I have children I will understand what was playing in his mind at the time of sending me to school and signing a marriage contract._

 _Indeed you have heard me right. I am to be wed to Mr. Fitzwilliam G. Darcy. The man whose name cover's many of these pages. I should be overjoyed, delirious, but I am impassive I believe the feeling to be. Though impassive seems too timid a word. I am in one part angry and frustrated that yet another part of my life has been decided for me, and yet in the other part I am glad and light-hearted. Though I cannot decided whether I am angry at another piece of my life being set before me, or whether I am angry at Mr. Darcy for being said man I am to marry. I suppose they are both the same thing. I believe I am upset at the prospect of an arranged marriage and whomever the groom may be I would be displeased and grudgingly upset with him. The said groom just so happens to be the man whom I have loved since childhood and whom confessed his love for me on the last page of my journal._

 _What is wrong with me? Why can I not be happy and simply agree to this impending marriage? I have turned it over and over in my head yet every time I think of having to marry him my heart drops. What if he is not the man I fell in love with? What if this fairytale I have been building in my head and heart for years crumbles under the weight of reality? What if I resent him for this circumstance for which I have not the slightest idea if he was involved in? Simply because it is another thing my Father has laid at my feet and demanded I pick up. What if I am never to be the Elizabeth I once was? What if he loves me for the Elizabeth I have become? What if he only loves me for my outward appearance and not the woman I am?_

 _No, no should that happen, should he only lust after me and confuse it with love I would surely die. It seems love is my only hope. My only saving grace, and should I wed without it I am as good as dead. For I believe love can save me. I believe that with the right man I could once again be Elizabeth Fitzwilliam. And it is with these thoughts journal that make me fear this marriage instead of singing from the hilltops._

 _Your Loving and Hopeful,_

 _Elizabeth_

…..

Darcy spent the next week solely with Georgiana. She was slowly regaining her strength and Darcy noticed the color and plumpness returning to her face. She had not spoken of what happened so Darcy did not mention it. The child was buried in his Mother's garden and a rose bush seed planted with it. Georgie's favorite flower.

Georgiana was resting so Darcy was in his study finishing some of his work ledgers in order to be able to depart come the beginning of the upcoming week. He had just been searching through all his mail when he came upon a letter from Richard.

Wonder and curiosity clouded his features as he unfolded the parchment.

 _Darcy,_

 _First I am saddened by the news of our poor Georgiana. I too, have morose news. My Father, Walter J. Fitzwilliam the Earl of Matlock, has passed. Thomas came three days thereafter and has now grown quite the large head. Not that it was not already abnormally large. I think Darcy, should I have to spend much more time with the idiot I might depart on the pre-mandatory date for my recall to the war front, if it was not for Elizabeth. Father told her of the marriage contract, she had a fit of nerves and fainted. I believed my heart dropped out of my stomach when I heard and found her lying deathly still in bed._

 _I would like to pronounce my feelings towards her and yours marriage. I confess when Father told me I was quite against the two of you becoming married, it was not until I allowed Father to explain his reasoning for signing the contract with your Father that I understood. I am now completely for the contract and as my Father's dying wish will see to it that it be carried out as it was written. So it seems, Darcy you have been granted your wish after all in obtaining my sister's hand._

 _I received your letter and I must relay to you not to come to London, instead I plan for Elizabeth and I to make our way to Pemberley after our Father's burial. Where we may be able to work out all the kinks in the marriage agreement and allow you and Elizabeth time._

 _Darcy, I must tell you Elizabeth is in a fragile state and she may not be quite as agreeable to this agreement as you are. You must give her time and space, but I believe she shall come around and when she does she could not be happier. She is shocked and resentful, Darcy. She so much as told me she is upset and indignant toward our Father for again taking something she believed she may have some control over. You must understand being of a high social standing you could presumably marry any woman you fell in love with. It is my understanding she felt the same for her future groom, at least as much as she could, in being a Lady and having quite the dowry. It provided her with a bit more freedom in whom she fell in love with. Though I believe… Never the mind I shall let her come to that conclusion._

 _Expect us in a week's time, Darcy,_

 _Richard_

Darcy sat with the letter loosely held between his fingers. His eyes cast ahead staring at the two wood French doors.

He was to wed Elizabeth based off of a marriage agreement his Father and Earl Fitzwilliam had written.

He was to…wed Elizabeth based off of a marriage agreement his Father and Earl Fitzwilliam had written.

The sentence repeated itself over and over in his head. Elizabeth, his poor Elizabeth, she did not need this.

Darcy grabbed at his hair before standing so quickly his chair fell backwards as he began to pace the room. Why could they not have kept it to themselves? Darcy knew Elizabeth would be resentful of this. Why would she not be? But this is not what she needed, she needed to see he loved her for her, not because he was forced to marry her. Had they only spoke with him, informed him his Father had done this he could have helped deliver it in a better way. He would of, of course, had told her about the marriage agreement, but after she had been convinced and felt for herself her true feelings for him and his for her. Now, now she would be in a constant state of doubt! Darcy had to fix this. When she comes he would fix this.

He paced over to his desk where a decanter of brandy sat and poured himself a glass. Downing it in one gulp. He repeated the sentence in his head again, a small smile forming on his face. He was to wed Elizabeth. Elizabeth would be his wife. The grin that accompanied those thoughts Darcy knew made him look ridiculous but he could not help it. He was to marry the only woman he loved. The only woman he had ever loved.

Darcy had spent years in London society trying to find that woman but they were all the same. Gowns and balls and lace and purses. His Elizabeth was different…she always had been. She was intelligent, she could hold her own in an intellectual conversation, she knew of literature and geography and the histories. She was not afraid to speak up for what she believed in and the way she delivered it was in such a way that one believed she was complimenting them. And her beauty! She was a goddess on Earth. A nymph sent to tempt mortal men. She belonged in the heavens by the side of Aphrodite.

Darcy hoped and prayed she had received his letter and before she was made aware of the marriage agreement. Surely he could not have expressed such sentiments had he been forced to marry her. She must believe him. She must.

…..

Elizabeth lay in bed resting after her Father's memorial. The service was like all other services for the newly deceased. Sad and depressing yet joyous in the action of this mortal man now being able to join God in the high Heavens and the utter privilege he had, and we would all eventually have.

Elizabeth believed it to be a salve to a wound the 'privileged' words. She lay in her bed thinking of nothing and yet everything. _How easy it would be to run away_ , she thought. Perhaps she could become a governess, a maid, she laughed, a mistress. Perhaps a sailormen's wife. She could travel to Gretna Green and elope to a sailormen and travel the blue waters at his side, or she could marry Mr. Darcy, become Mrs. Darcy and mistress of Pemberley. She could marry a man she knows little of or she could marry a man she considered a friend.

 _Perhaps I simply throw a coin in the air and let it decide for me?_ She pondered. _It would be easier, no emotions or feelings attached for really I had no control over what the coin decides._ She shook her head before rolling over to her other side to stare out the windows. She let all thoughts flee from her mind as her eyes drooped.

"Guess who?"

Elizabeth laughed as hands covered her eyes from her spot in the library. "Hm… is it Richard?" She questioned, a smirk crawling up her lips and a giggle held between her teeth.

Darcy stepped in front of her a hurt and indignant expression upon his face. "Richard? Why would you guess Richard? I am hurt, love."

Elizabeth let out an unladylike laugh, "Your face darling, which is why I guessed Richard." Elizabeth broke out into a renewed bout of laughter at the shock on Darcy's face.

"Oh, is that so, minx," he smiled as he began to tickle her sides making her laugh all the louder and harder. "Say you love me, say it love, and I shall stop."

Elizabeth only continued to laugh and squirm. Shaking her head, "Darcy I…I can't…breathe!"

Darcy stopped, now crouching in front of her, "say it," he whispered, his face inching closer to hers. She could see the slight orange in his eyes. He came ever closer, their noses touching. "Say it," he demanded as he inched closer still, the smell surrounding her causing her to moan. Her eyelids fluttering closed as his hands moved from her sides to her face. Traveling up her arms, shoulders, his fingertips running up her neck. One of his hands resting behind her head at the nape of her neck buried in her curls. The other on her cheek tracing her jawline down to her lips before his thumb dragged across the bottom one before turning her face just the slightest to fit into the curve of his. "Say it," he whispered, his tone dark and husky, his lips brushing hers as he said it.

"I love,"

Elizabeth abruptly woke from her slumber panting and with a slight sheen of sweat covering her brow. She let out a heavy breath before ringing for Lucy.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Prepare my things for a walk. I would like to go to Hyde Park."

Lucy bobbed a curtsy, "yes, ma'am."

….

"Minnie I simply do not know what to do. I am sure Thomas has told you of the marriage contract?"

"Oh yes, my lady. Thomas informed the night we arrived."

Lady Eleanor shook her head as she lifted the tea cup to her lips. Turning to Thomas' wife she began again, "Minnie, you must allow me to tell you the reasons I am hesitant to allow this marriage to take place. Mr. Darcy" she started staring at her feet. "He is a good gentlemen, a respectable one, very appreciated in society but he is not for my Lizzy. I do not know if Thomas informed you but Elizabeth is eligible to wed another should it be before her eighteenth birthday. She already has an array of suitors but one in particular that I believe would be a good choice for her. So you see Minnie, I think should we work together we could help convince her of the right choice. Though our time is quite limited, therefore we need to begin immediately. That is why we shall be having company for supper tonight."

"Oh my lady! I have to agree. Though Mr. Darcy is quite the gentlemen, too wrong for your Lizzy. Too wrong indeed. Who, might I ask, is this suitor of yours?"

"Why Lord Morton of course!"

…

Elizabeth walked through the park past the meadow she usually stopped in and over to a bench overlooking a small pond. Her dream had shaken her and she had needed to clear her head. Walks seemed to have that effect on her. She stared out across the expanse of the park watching couples walk by and governesses chase after their charges, and horses trot across the green grass with their master's atop them.

She sat in thought of trivial things with a book splayed in her lap. She began to relax as the book took over her thoughts. She did not want to think of her dream or her impending marriage or her Father's death. Nothing, all she wanted was her book and nature and the sun on her face. She did not want to think of the way Darcy's face looked so close to hers, or the way his eyes roamed over her, or the way she wondered about the way his lips felt…Elizabeth violently shook her head.

Book, she was to be reading her book. Not thinking of what it would feel like to have Darcy hold her. Not thinking about what it would be like to have Darcy firmly kiss her. She quickly ducked her head at these thoughts, hiding the blush that rose up her cheeks.

Elizabeth spent a good two hours at the park reading and trying to repress her wanton thoughts. Her pace back towards the manor was slow and leisurely. Enjoying not being around her Mother, eldest brother, and sister-in-law. Thinking of her soon to be travels to Pemberley with her beloved brother. He promised a scenic route with many stops along the way, they were to depart come the end of the week.

Elizabeth finally made her way up the stairs of her home to the front door only to be bombarded by her Mother.

"Lizzy, there you are! Come in, child, come in! We have guest's coming for supper so we must bathe you and rid you of that ghastly outdoor smell and dress you in your finest." Lady Eleanor gushed as she dragged her daughter up the steps. "Well, the finest one can dress when dressing in all black. Perhaps a deep purple." Her mother rambled off as Elizabeth followed behind, too wrapped up in what was going on to question why her Mother was hosting a supper in the time of mourning, and her own husband at that. Her Mother continued to prattle on and Elizabeth only kept trying to intervene.

"Of course we could add some form of decoration to your hair to lighten up the dress-"

"Mother!"

"What is it Elizabeth?" Lady Eleanor questioned as she turned to her daughter as they reached her quarters.

"Mother, who could you have possibly invited for supper in our time of mourning?"

Lady Eleanor's face brightened at the question, "Lord Morton, of course, who else dear?"

Elizabeth's eyes grew to the size of tea plates. She wrenched her hand from her Mother's grasp as she angrily began to pace her room. "You, you, I cannot _believe_ you are still trying to push this marriage between us!"

She shook her head in annoyance and disbelief as raging tears gathered in her eyes. "When will you stop, Mother? Hm? When you are on your death bed? When I am on mine? Because I will surely exceed you to it in this state! Father has passed only a week ago and you barely seem affected. He was your husband, your HUSBAND! Does that not mean anything to you? What about the speech you poured out to him on your knees about how you had failed him and _me?_ Was that all a joust, all a silly little rouse to make your poor, dear husband forgive the wretch things you have done?" She paused as a sharp pain spread across her face as her Mother's hand struck her. She drew a breath as her Mother quickly began to ramble off apologies.

Elizabeth let out a humorless laugh, in the least bit affected, continuing on as if nothing happened, "Are you so blind as to not see that your own daughter has not come back? The little girl you sent away is gone, and you have not even noticed, or perhaps you are happy she is gone? The only thing I have heard pass your lips since I have arrived home is who to marry me off to. Am I such a burden that you had to first send me away for seven years, never visit me or allow me to visit you, might I add, and now you must marry me off in the hopes of making me someone else's burden? Yet when the opportunity arrives the man is not the one you want! What have I done wrong, Mother," Elizabeth spit at her. Grabbing at her hair in exasperation and throwing her hands down.

"What have I done to make you so despise your little girl? Was the schooling not enough? Were the years I spent in agony and depression to become this lady you created in your pretty little head not how you expected? I became the docile, proper woman you so wanted. I went to your balls and soirée's, I flirted with all the men, I accepted the advances of the suitor you wanted, was it not enough? Did I receive these…?" Elizabeth faltered as tears streamed down her face as she shoved her hands palm up into her Mother's face. "These," she began again after swallowing, "for nothing? Did I take the daily beatings of tongue and hand for seven years all for naught, because I am not the lady you so wished me to be?" Elizabeth wiped at her tears aggressively before looking to the floor. Her Mother staring in shock and horror at her daughter.

"You did not even give the little girl I was a chance to grow into a woman who could be a lady and yet have intellect and a curious spirit. Who knows Mother, it could have led me to be the wife of a man of parliament who needed a wife he could talk with. Not one he simply could only buy things for. Perhaps I would have become the wife of the Prince of England, because he found the woman with knowledge of society and of the outside world who could play the part of a docile wife, and at the same time be the genius behind his ruling in the privacy of his home, beautiful and enchanting. However, Mother we will never know because you never gave that little girl a chance. She was odd and improper and did not fit with societies views and you sent her off to be _fixed."_

"Elizabeth," Her Mother began before falling to the ground in a heap of tears.

Elizabeth stood watching her Mother break down on the floor as her own tears fell from her eyes. The remorse and guilt she should have felt never coming.

"I want you to inform Lord Morton tonight at supper of my impending marriage to Mr. Darcy. I will be wedding him the day of my eighteenth birthday. I will have him retrieve a special license for us to wed in two weeks' time as well as during my mourning period. Mother, I do believe you have guests to prepare for," Elizabeth coolly finished.

There was a time in Elizabeth's life when she would have felt a form of guilt for speaking to her Mother in the way she had just presented. However, that time died with her Father if not with the little girl in school. Now all Elizabeth felt for the woman in front of her, who she most unfortunately called Mother, was pity and disgust. She had manipulated her Father into thinking he was all to blame for the life she so far lead, that all these ideas where his, when in reality they were all hers. She was the one who constantly disapproved of the little girl Elizabeth was, who sent her to school to be rid of the little daughter who caused such a disgrace, who spent the seven years without her planning to marry her off to the wealthiest bidder, and she who had, in all honesty, killed her Father. What self-respecting man can live with the constant reminder, in the form of a wife, and guilt of all the wrong he had done in raising Elizabeth the way he had? Furthermore when the wife is an accomplished actress in playing her feelings to her advantage to put forth the image of a proper and perfect society wife? Any man would have died from the inside out as his constant self-doubt ate away at him.

Elizabeth watched as her Mother picked herself up from the floor and walk towards her, "Elizabeth, child, you must understand-"

"Don't, don't you dare, try to make excuses for yourself. I do not wish to hear them."

"Elizabeth, please, please forgive me."

Elizabeth laughed a humorless laugh, "I…I…" She stopped as she collected her thoughts and squared her shoulders. "I forgive you."

"Oh, Elizabeth! Thank you, child thank-"

Elizabeth put a hand up to stop her Mother's ramblings, "Not because it puts your mind at ease and soothes your troubled soul, but because, I believe, in order for myself to heal and move forward I must forgive you, as well as it is my Christian duty. Understand Mother that this changes only my peace in mind, you shall never be welcome in my home. As I said before, I believe you have guests to prepare for. I depart on the 'morrow for Pemberley."

Lady Eleanor stood staring at her daughter in quiet understanding. Her face, which had been one of shock, slowly slid into one of saddened understanding and regret. With a tug of her dress and the tuck of a few stray hairs she proceeded, "Very well, supper is at seven. I will have Richard retrieve you."

Elizabeth curtly nodded and watched her Mother walk from her room before breaking into her own set of tears and crashing to the floor. Swearing this was the last time she would cry over that woman. She had not even realized she had subconsciously made a decision about Darcy.

…

Darcy sat at the head of the dining table with his sister to the right, thinking of how Elizabeth would soon take the very seat. This was exactly what he wished to speak to his sister about.

Darcy cut his meat taking a bite while Georgie did the same, it was her first day out of her bedroom and Darcy could not have been more excited. His sister was returning back to full health, he was to wed the woman he loved, and though he realized the situation which he would be wedding Elizabeth was less than desirable, he was still to marry her. The only thing left to make him the happiest man alive would be to gain Elizabeth's love in return. Something which he had no doubt he could gain with time.

"Georgie?"

"Yes, Brother?" Georgie asked smiling up from her plate.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Elizabeth are to visit in three days' time. I have some news I wish to share. You see, Lady Elizabeth and I are to… Well we are to wed," Darcy lamely finished staring at his plate. He was unsure of how his sister would take the news. He knew Georgie loved Elizabeth but that was seven years ago and Georgie was still a small child. Darcy also knew Georgie would come to love this Elizabeth as well but she was not the same, at least not yet. Darcy planned to help her return to her former self only a womanly version, as Elizabeth was indeed a woman and not a child any longer. He believed Elizabeth simply needed time to figure herself out in an environment where she would not be judged or pushed.

"Oh Brother! You speak true?" Georgie practically bounced in her seat. "It has been so long since I last saw Elizabeth!"

Darcy could not help the small chuckle that escaped him, "Indeed. Georgie there is something else, however. You see the circumstances for our marriage is not exactly desirable."

Georgiana's brow furrowed and she tilted her head as she stared at Darcy. "What do you mean, Brother?"

"What I mean Georgie is Father signed a marriage agreement between us."

Georgiana's face fell a little at the confession, "So, you do not wish to marry her, Brother?"

Darcy's brown eyes, much resembling a dark chocolate, widened, "No! I mean, what I mean to say, Georgie is yes I do but I fear Elizabeth does not wish to wed me."

The confused expression reappeared on his sister's face before her next inquiry, "But why would she not wish to marry you, Brother. I thought it was the belief that she has liked you for quite some time."

Darcy smiled fondly at the memory, "Indeed I believe that to be the case as well, but Elizabeth has gone through a lot, Georgie. She has not been taken very well care of in her life and I fear she is going to need time to heal, which I hope to give her. Georgie, what I am trying to express is, Elizabeth may appear different in countenance and indifferent to this marriage but it is my optimistic opinion that she will come to change her mind. I only want you to be aware of the situation and to not question her or me in this marriage."

"I understand, Brother," Georgie confirmed taking another bite of her supper.

"Georgie?"

"Yes, Brother?"

Darcy smiled but his face quickly turned serious, "I want you to as well understand that when the time comes, our marriage, though perhaps not our wedding, will be one of love." He wanted her to realize that he was not marrying because he had to but because he loved the woman he was to marry.

Georgie's face brightened and a wide smile spread across her lips, "I understand."

"Splendid."

The Darcy's finished their supper in comfortable and meaningless chatter finishing the night with a reading. Georgie not quite up to playing the pianoforte just yet.

On his way to his chambers Darcy could not help his straying thoughts. Thoughts of Elizabeth on his arm, always by his side, his wife to ravish freely. How long he had waited for her. He knew her Mother would not be happy with the arrangement. She had always expressed herself quite freely when it came to her dislike of him. His Mother had once said it was because of the differences between Lady Fitzwilliam's eldest and he. She had a sense of jealousy towards him for being intelligent, gentlemanly, well-spoken, and a well-behaved boy. Aspects her eldest never seemed to carry. Darcy despised the woman almost as much as he despised his Father. The way she ran Elizabeth's life and made her feel so little was something Darcy could never forgive. He had seen the way Lady Fitzwilliam ran her household and those who occupied it.

Lady Fitzwilliam was a woman of high intelligence and she knew how to use it to her advantage. She knew how to downplay how much she really comprehended in a way that never gave way to how much she knew. She was a woman who would have done quite well in the world of men had society been different, much like her daughter would have. This thought had brought Darcy, many times, to the conclusion of why Lady Fitzwilliam treated her daughter the way she did. Elizabeth proved to be a threat. Someone who could take all Lady Fitzwilliam had worked for, built up over the years, away and be more superior than she. Thus why Lady Fitzwilliam raised her daughter the way she had, by society standards, as to diminish the growing flame in Elizabeth that was too much like hers.

However, Darcy believed his Mother to only be half right. Darcy deduced Lady Fitzwilliam disregarded him because he as well proved to be a threat to her empire. See, Darcy could provide Elizabeth the life she needed to thrive and grow in her education and understanding. Darcy provide her an environment to continually improve herself and hence forth her mind. Lady Fitzwilliam knew, should Elizabeth given such an opportunity, would grasp at it as one does life. Darcy, however, could not understand how a Mother could not know one's own child, for Elizabeth, though would have the room to improve herself, would never put it to use the way she has.

Darcy reached his chambers and began his nightly routine casting off such contemplating thoughts. Thinking instead of how he needed to contact his attorney and address the marriage contract on the morrow. Changing from his attire into a loose shirt and trousers that reached just below the knee. The shirt untied at the chest to allow air to pass through. He washed his face splashing water onto it in a repetitive motion a few times before drying off. There he proceed to his writing desk to begin his daily letter to Elizabeth. Something he had taken up ever since he quit London and had written her that first letter in her journal.

 _My Love,_

 _Today I received information concerning you. Your brother, Richard, has informed me of the marriage agreement. I shall be contacting my attorney on the morrow to consult with him about the conditions and perhaps receive a bit more information on the agreement itself and what exactly my Father wrote up. I fear I must tell you I am not in the least bit saddened or distraught over the news. I do, however, admit to being pleasantly shocked when I was informed. I have some idea of what you must be feeling, Elizabeth and I am deeply sorry. Could something be done I would do everything in my power to make it happen. However, by the way you brother made it sound and knowing my Father, I do not expect there to be a way out of it. Forgive me._

 _I informed my sister this eve of our impending marriage and am pleased to relate she was quite ecstatic. She is healing quicker than I could have hoped for, Elizabeth. The color is returning to her face and the muscle to her bones. She is still weak and cannot eat much but she is so much healthier than is to be expected. As I related to you in last evenings letter she shall never conceive again. The midwife explained in terms of her having damaged a crucial part of herself to never bear children again. Something about a tear in an area only belonging to woman. As you must know, Elizabeth this discussion was quite uncomfortable for me and I do not wish to discuss it further. However, I hope once you and I wed it is something the midwife and you might discuss as to further explain it to Georgiana._

 _I await the day you arrive and from there the day we wed. Elizabeth, I fear it has been too long since my eyes last beheld you and my heart aches for your presence. To see your eyes bright with laughter and your smile bigger than ever. To hear you in your verbal debates and your opinion of early and recent works by the greatest and most profound authors. I await the day I may confess my love for you, though I fear it will have to wait now as to not scare you off now with the marriage agreement hanging over our heads. Elizabeth, I yearn to learn more about you and spend every waking hour figuring you out._

 _Until the day my love,_

 _F.D._

Darcy sealed the letter and tied it with the others he had written. Waiting for the perfect time to present them to her.

…..

Elizabeth finished putting her chosen books, graphite, and her journal into a small bag to take with her in the carriage. Richard and she had to cut the trip short as he had been given his recall date and Elizabeth now only had two weeks' time to be reacquainted with Darcy. They would now travel directly to Pemberley.

Elizabeth pulled her own hair up in the mirror twisting it into a low knot at the nape of her neck. She had Lucy cover her face in more pearl powder than usual and had her eyes lined a little heavier as to make them appear smaller. The night before she had cried more so than she believed to have cried in all her years. She knew what she had said to her Mother could never be taken back, not that she wanted to take it back. However, Elizabeth knew too that things would never be the same again. There would always be a different tension between her and her Mother now. The facts and secrets they both had ignored for so long finally were on the table and could not be unseen. Had Elizabeth wished for the words to be unsaid they never could, and her Mother and Elizabeth both realized this.

Supper had been an awkward encounter for her Mother. Lord Morton arrived with his sister and cousin in tow at exactly seven o'clock. Richard had retrieved Elizabeth at seven o' five and they descended the stairs together and entered the dining room together. Where Lord Morton had hurriedly rushed over to take Richard's place, kissing her hand as he went. Elizabeth had smiled and made certain to keep her eyes to the floor thus he realize she had been crying. He led her to her seat where ample conversation ensued before the first course was served. Thomas, and his wife Minnie, relating to the company tales of their children, who would be arriving on the morrow with Minnie's parents.

Elizabeth was pleased to be gone before the children arrived as they were the most awful children she had ever to encounter. Though she was not in the least bit surprised being who their parents were.

Come the last course Lady Eleanor made the announcement of her only daughter's engagement to a Mr. Darcy. Lord Morton's countenance had fallen as the other present company congratulated her and wished her well. Lady Morton, Lord Morton's sister, was quite pleased to know she had befriended the future Mrs. Darcy, having already befriended Miss Darcy. Miss Hopwood, seemed the most enthusiastic as she beamed for Elizabeth, while at the same time resting a hand upon Lord Morton's arm.

The evening's activities afterwards varied depending on the person. Lady Morton asked Elizabeth a thousand questions, from which Elizabeth presumed Lady Morton had a bit of a tender for Mr. Darcy. Lady Eleanor sat quietly and stoically in her high backed chair observing. Richard sat comfortably on the settee watching Elizabeth talk with Lady Morton. More Lady Morton than Elizabeth, from which, again, Elizabeth presumed Richard held Lady Morton to a certain degree. Miss Hopwood sat next to Lord Morton who chatted with Thomas easily, if not a bit dejectedly, Minnie sitting next to Thomas while she talked with Miss Hopwood. Miss Hopwood sitting with her arm tightly wrapped around Lord Morton's.

They did not stay present long after supper had ended before calling for their carriage and departing from the Manor. Lord Morton kissing Elizabeth's hand one final time in a more intimate way then could be considered proper. Once Elizabeth had watched the carriage depart she turned and headed for her chambers. Passing her Mother on the way to the stairs. Lady Eleanor staring despondently after her, an almost look of remorse resting over her aging face.

Elizabeth had waited for the click of her door before letting her final tears fall because of that woman. Crying the pieces of her broken heart together again, though only with the tie of a single piece of sewing thread. Leaving it fragile and vulnerable but still held together.

Elizabeth stared at her childhood room for a long while. Committing the walls, floors, windows, furniture and essence to memory so as to write about it in her journal. She highly doubted ever returning to this room, let alone this house, again. She had no desire to see her Mother anymore, and come the time she departs from this world, she will have no desire to visit her brother.

Elizabeth sighed before turning and quitting the room and third floor without a backwards glance. Her brothers, sister-in-law, and Mother were waiting in the entry hall for her. Thomas with several new rings upon his fingers and a brighter chain on his pocket watch. Minnie with a new necklace dangling from her protruding neck. Elizabeth had the sudden thought it might choke her to death. The smirk that climb her face went unnoticed except by Richard. Who, ever the one to always present himself in a casual and lying about manner, was leaning against the door frame smirking. Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam was dressed in her gaudy, black mourning gown decked in glittering jewels, as if she was to be leaving for a ball instead of taking tea with her daughter-in-law. Her head was held high, her back straight, and her shoulders squared. Her greying hair was pulled into a tight bun atop her head and her withering hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes void of emotion as well as her wrinkling face.

"Shame, Lizzy, the children won't get to see you. I know how fond you are of them. I will have to bring them for a visit some time I suppose. I know Minnie here would love to visit Pemberley."

Elizabeth only smiled at Thomas and Minnie, who was violently shaking her head. She then turned to her Mother.

"I suppose this is adieu then."

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded.

Her Mother nodded in return. She was about to hug Elizabeth before hesitating and changing her mind. Elizabeth blinked hurriedly as to hold back tears and held her head high resisting the urge to bite her lip and look anywhere but at her.

"Here," Lady Eleanor briskly squeaked out. Presenting Elizabeth with a letter, her Father's hand writing on the front.

"Thank you."

Eleanor only nodded before turning away.

Richard watched on with a confused and saddened countenance. "Come Elizabeth, we must be off if we are to keep with our schedule."

"Of course," and with those insignificant words Elizabeth left Fitzwilliam Manor never to return again.

 **A/N: UGH! Why do I feel as if this did not flow well at all? So much information and emotions it's hard to find different words! Hahaha. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for the lovely reviews! They absolutely made my day. Also I just recently watched "Becoming Jane," and I highly recommend you watch it. Absolutely amazing!**

 **Question: What are you currently reading?**

 **I am reading "Great Expectations" and I love it!**

 **Much love,**

 **~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

 _And in my room, beside my writing desk, where many of my hours were spent, were the large ceiling to floor windows. Overlooking the London streets, a sight I admit to detesting. My room was pungent yellow and had been since I moved there from the nursery. The color, Lady Fitzwilliam believed to be, 'womanly.' I hate the color yellow. Though it is the color of the sun and the color of the center of my favorite flower I despise yellow. I had not always detested the color but there was a girl in my finishing school who wore yellow every day. Yellow in her hair, yellow in her gown, yellow on her slippers, yellow on her night dress, always yellow! And always very prominent. Dominating all the other colors. This girl was the one who, besides the headmistress, was the one to always tease and taunt me. The one to always tattle on me and make stories in her yellow head of things I did to make me receive punishment. Most if not all the scars lacing my palms I did not deserve and were more often than not caused by her. Thus my hatred for the color yellow. My four poster bed was mahogany as was my bedside table and writing desk. My vanity of a light marble to compliment the yellow. The vanity costing more than all the other pieces in my room. The vanity I hardly used. Off to the right of my bed, which face the double doors, was the washroom and next to that was my wardrobe._

Elizabeth's writing was interrupted by her brother, Richard.

"Elizabeth, I was wondering if we might have a word."

"Of course, Richard! Which word do you wish to have? Perhaps anomalistic, or cupidity, mayhap perfidiousness? Each word relates to Mother so have your pick."

Richard frowned, he had seen the cool manner in which his Mother and his sister addressed each other during supper and her departure. Though he did not know why. Richard felt very much unconnected and more than ashamed of the way he had been neglecting his sister. Richard had been caught in his own home of self-pity being sent back to the war front when his sister had just arrived home and a woman had captured his attention. His thoughts had been anywhere and everywhere except for Elizabeth. He was contrite to admit how he had subconsciously blocked his sister out. He had replaced this different woman presented to him with the old Elizabeth in the hope of things righting themselves. However, that had gone very wrong indeed. Instead, things worsened. Elizabeth's countenance fell further: Richard was to be shipped off, Elizabeth was being auctioned off to highest suitor, he had ban Darcy at first from even resuming a friendship with her, she was told she was then to have an arranged marriage to said man, her Father died, and something mysterious happened between her and her Mother. Richard was done hiding behind the little girl who was sent off to school. His eyes had been opened when he had read Darcy's letter. Richard would fix things with his sister before he left so help him.

"HA. HA. Elizabeth, very clever. Please, tell me."

Elizabeth's sarcastic mien dropped, and she looked at her fidgeting hands as she chewed her lip.

"Richard, I do not wish to cry anymore. I want to be happy so desperately and yet it constantly seems to be ripped from my hands. Richard, am I doing something wrong? Have I been in anyway troublesome to the point of no forgiveness?"

"Lizzy, of what do you speak?" Richard urgently requested. His sister's words causing his heart to break. He moved from his seat to the one beside hers and grasped her hands. Her face ashamedly turned from his as she took in a burdened breath.

Her voice quivering she began, she told her brother and longtime friend everything. She told him from the beginning, from Mother's constant disapproval of her as a child, her schooling, her unanswered letters, at this part in Elizabeth's speech, Richard looked away ashamedly. Elizabeth continued on, noticing nothing amiss with her brother and listed her first encounter with Darcy, and her second, and the encounter's with Lord Morton, and her talk with Father, and finally her talk with Mother. Leaving out only her scarred and twitching hands and how her Mother slapped her.

Richard, a Colonel in His Majesty's Army, had tears in his eyes listening to his sister speak. He had to turn away from her when she finished as to compose himself. He had never seen so much pain in so young a heart. Richard's heart, in turn, broke for the crippled girl beside him. He squeezed her glove clad hands before pulling her in for an embrace. Elizabeth allowed only a few tears to slip before she composed herself. Smiling shyly up at her brother.

Richard shook his head in disbelief, "Lizzy, had I known, had you told me." He broke off shaking his head, "You should not have had to inform me. I am you older brother and I should have, I should have _known,_ Lizzy. I have no right to ask it of you but, forgive me, Lizzy, for I have failed you."

Elizabeth violently shook her head, "Richard, oh Richard, no, no. Pray never blame yourself for the fault of our parents. Father, dear Father, was a lost soul and Mother was the devil. Never take their faults upon your shoulders. Though it will take time, Richard, much time, I believe I only have a few more doors to shut before I can be whole once more and heal."

Richard again shook his head in disbelief at this amazing woman beside him. She had been broken so many times and yet she remained positive and strong in the face of cruelty. The rage he felt towards his Mother was unimaginable and though Elizabeth was able to forgive her he never would. He smiled sadly down at her, giving her hand another squeeze, before moving back to his seat across from her.

"I am glad you are home, my dear little one."

Elizabeth felt a familiar smile tug at her lips, "As am I, Brother."

Richard nodded before picking up his book and turning to the appropriate page. Elizabeth sighed before doing the same.

…..

Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam feigned a headache and excused herself from supper. She lay in bed with a dazed expression on her face. Her long hair hanging about her frame and her made up face washed away. She briefly closed her eyes seemingly serene before she leapt from her bed and flew towards her vanity. The perfume bottles that lined the top along with her case full of beauty enhancing helpers flew to the floor in a heap. The mix of colorful bottles crashing onto the floor creating an array of beautiful glass. Her beauty case fell to the floor and burst open causing its contents to spill out. Pearl powder exploded on the ground in a dust of white. Liquid paint to line the eyes was splattered over the pristine marble. Coal powder burst in a heap of soot mixing with the sweet smelling perfume and creating a black liquid. Eleanor threw her hands upon her vanity, breathing heavy and eyes wild as she stared at herself. Time had not been her friend; it was the first time she had looked at herself without some form of 'helping' product and her hair down. Grey was the prominent color in her blond hair. Her face was lined in aged lines and spots. Under her eyes were heavy, purple bags. Her hands were sagging skin hanging from her bones lined in blue veins. Her eyes were lifeless and blank. She screamed before tossing her vanity chair across her chambers. The old chair broke into pieces as she stormed to her bed and ripped the covers from the mattress. Her rampage far from over as she tore the curtains from there rods and threw her wash bowl to the floor. Glass shattered around her and sliced any available skin. Her feet, hands, and face being cut. She hissed at the sting before picking up handfuls, causing the glass to imbed in her hands, and tossing it across the room.

Her breath ragged and her hands bleeding she fell to the floor and wept.

….

Elizabeth and Richard only had a day left in the carriage having already stopped two nights. Elizabeth wished the journey there could have been longer as she quite enjoyed the changing scenery. She wished to stop at every interesting crossroads and every beautiful hilltop. She wanted to sit for hours and write what she saw, committing everything to written memory. She, of course, wrote what she saw passing her window, but she believed the experience would be much better had she been able to feel the greening grass, touch the rough rocks of the flowing brook. Elizabeth was also hesitant to be once again reunited with Darcy, and as his fiancée no less.

Butterflies nested in her stomach and her hand flew to calm herself. One more day, she would repeat to herself. They would rest the night in Lambton as Elizabeth had always loved the quaint town and from there ride to Pemberley come morning calling hours. Elizabeth was thrilled to stay in Lambton as there was a bookshop her Father would always take her to and she was restless to visit it once more.

Elizabeth passed the last bit of the carriage ride writing in her journal. The letter Lady Fitzwilliam presented her lying in the front waiting to be opened. Elizabeth would open the letter, but when she believed the time to be right.

She and Richard reached Lambton come dusk and were promptly shown to their rooms and given a warm meal. Elizabeth bid her brother a good night and hastily changed into her nightwear, wanting to have one peaceful night to herself. She feasted on various cold meats, cheese and bread. Sipping wine as she went. Her feet curled in the chair by the dying fire as she continued to nibble on her supper. Thoughts racing through her mind and butterflies taking home in her stomach.

Though she was nervous and apprehensive to see Darcy again she could not help the smile which crawled up her face and the warm blush her neck.

…

Eleanor had yet left her room since Richard and Elizabeth had departed, though Thomas and Minnie hardly noticed as their children had arrived the same day and had been keeping them occupied.

She had not touched a piece of food sent to her and she refused the offer of baths and outings. She rejected brushing her hair or moving from her bed. She would not allow anyone to clean the mess she made and she did not do anything other than sit and stare. The woman was a living corpse.

…..

Darcy woke the morning of Elizabeth's arrival and sighed a contented happy, contented sigh. His love was to come and he was to feast on her with his eyes. Drinking her all in and committing her to memory for his nights. He had dreamed of Elizabeth every night since the letter from Richard when he realized Elizabeth was to be his. He longed for the days he would spend with her and only her. The nights when she would fall asleep safely in his arms. The day when she would utter the words he longed to hear the most.

Darcy would give her time to settle but he planned to explain everything to her. Admit to everything and help her heal. She must have so many questions he had the answers to and he planned to give them to her.

Darcy stood still as his valet dressed him looking at himself in the mirror. Examining every feature. His thoughts straying to his Elizabeth and her soon arrival. He had much planned, he had even made sure to finish all business for the next four weeks and had procured the special license he would need to wed Elizabeth in her time of mourning and so suddenly. Her eighteenth birthday was in two weeks' time. They would need to wed before then as to fulfill the marriage contract's agreements.

Darcy walked to the dining hall to break his fast with his sister who appeared as excited as he.

"Good morning, Georgiana. How do you fare this morn?"

Georgiana broke into a bright smile, "Good morning, Brother. The morning finds me splendidly! I am all excitement for Elizabeth's arrival. I cannot wait to become reacquainted with her, Brother. Especially as she is to be my sister."

Darcy gave a small smile, moments such as these reminding him of how young his sister really was. "I believe I feel the same way, dear Sister." Darcy unfolded the paper and began sipping his black coffee as Georgiana picked around an orange scone and stared at her tea. Darcy glanced at her and chuckled. "Georgie, why don't you make arrangements with Mrs. Reynolds for a picnic?"

Georgiana's blue eyes lit up, "Of course! What a splendid idea," She exclaimed as her hands clapped together and she bounded from her seat. Darcy smiling after her. He believed Elizabeth would wish to be reacquainted with the grounds upon her arrival. Darcy could not help but feel a bit of remorse at their meeting conditions. He wished to greet his fiancée the way she should properly be greeted. Ravished in a secluded corner of the house. His lips capturing hers and tracing her neck down to her collarbone to suck at the skin there. Listening for the moan he was positive would escape her beautiful pink lips. Where he would race back up to capture said moan with his mouth.

Darcy was so lost in his daydream he did not realize the time tick away.

…..

Elizabeth woke to the knocking at her door. Lucy had traveled with them being Elizabeth's ladies maid and had come to dress her.

"Enter," Elizabeth called from her position on the bed. She was twirling her hair around her pointer finger in an impassive daze.

"Mornin', ma'am," Lucy bobbed a curtsy.

"Good morning, Lucy. Would you kindly pull my purple colored gown out, please?"

Lucy smiled, "'Course, ma'am."

Elizabeth removed herself from her bed and walked to her wash basin to splash her face with water before preparing for the day. Tying up her hair, applying a lite perfume and dawning her day gown. Her gown was a deep purple as to still be considered mourning clothing, but Elizabeth always looked best in darker colors. She glanced at herself fleetingly in the mirror before quickly looking away. She never considered herself beautiful, perhaps average but nothing special surely. She did not want Darcy to love her for her looks as her Mother said many men would do. She wanted Darcy to love her because of her personality and the way she made him feel. She took a deep breath. The butterflies returning to their fluttering inside her stomach.

"Shall I ring for food to break your fast, ma'am?" Lucy questioned as she tidied up the room.

"No, thank you, Lucy. I will only need your assistance come our removal to Pemberley."

"Certainly, ma'am," Lucy bobbed a curtsy before making a soundless exist.

Elizabeth grabbed her journal just as there was a knock at her door.

"Enter," Elizabeth absent-mindedly called, gathering graphite and a ribbon to tie her journal and books together. Elizabeth turned and found her brother, with his goofy smile, staring at her. Elizabeth's face brightened at his entrance and she ran over to hug him.

He kissed the top of her head and held her at arm's length to get a look at her. "Beautiful! Simply breathtaking, I fear Darcy might have a heart attack."

Elizabeth blushed and playfully swatted her brother's arm, "Oh, stop it, Richard."

Richard only laughed before asking, "Ready to walk to the bookshop?"

Elizabeth could not hold back her smile, she absolutely adored the bookshop in Lambton. She was personal friends with the owner and his wife, and she was ecstatic to see them once more. Elizabeth stopped in place, her face falling a bit. Once she married Darcy, she would be able to visit them at any time. However, it was not that thought that caused her to pause, it was the fact that this was real and it was to happen. She knew she would have to marry Darcy but it all seemed so, unsubstantial. She was finally realizing Darcy was to be her husband, she would live here in Derbyshire, and she would become Mrs. Darcy mistress of Pemberley.

"Elizabeth, are you well?"

Elizabeth looked up at Richard, "Forgive me, I was lost in thought. I am well, do not fret Brother."

Richard looked at Elizabeth with concern before she smiled at him gesturing for them to go.

As they walked through the streets towards the bookshop Elizabeth could not help the feelings which settled in the pit of her stomach. She felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. Richard held the door as Elizabeth entered the little shop.

"Good Morning, Sir, Miss. How can I help you?" An older gentlemen with white hair asked looking up from an accounting book.

"Hello, Mr. Alexander."

"Lady Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled brightly, "One in the same I'm afraid."

Mr. Alexander smiled brightly back at her as he walked around the counter. He was slightly hunched over and his arms bent at the elbows swinging beside his ribs as he walked. "Oh, how beautiful you have grown. Molly! Molly, dear come see who has paid us a visit." Mr. Alexander shouted to the back room all the while looking at Elizabeth in awe. "It has been far too long since we last were in one another's company, my lady."

Elizabeth grabbed the old man's hand, "Indeed it has. I see your shop has grown since I was last here."

Mr. Alexander patted her hand with his other as Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his. "Indeed, my lady, it has. My son, he travels often and every time he comes home he brings us new books. The ones I do not wish for myself appear on the shelves."

"How wonderful! I am in great anticipation to browse your new titles."

Mr. Alexander smiled, "Molly!"

"I am coming Thomas, I am coming!" The old woman shouted back. Elizabeth smiled and then turned to smile at her brother, who was standing close to the entrance with his hands clasped behind him. Richard had visited the book shop on numerous occasions while Elizabeth was in finishing school to send her books anytime he visited Mr. Darcy.

"What is it, dear? I was finishing the preparations for lunch-in." Molly said in a huff before her eyes landed on Elizabeth. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Was all she seemed to be able to say before she bustled over and hugged her.

"Oh! How you have grown, and so beautiful too! I was wondering if I would ever see you again."

Elizabeth's smile only grew, and Richard had to turn away to hide a few stray tears. He had not seen his sister this happy in a long while. The scene broke his heart.

"How silly of you Mrs. Alexander, to assume something so unlikely of me," Elizabeth jested.

"Oh! You must join us for lunch-in."

Elizabeth's face fell a bit, she was to be at Pemberley come lunch-in. "I would love to. However I have arrangements with Mr. Darcy. Perhaps on the morrow?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. She wished to be reacquainted with her old friends.

"Oh! Of course, dear. We would love to have you!" Molly gushed pulling her in for a hug once more.

"Molly, dear, I do not think she can breathe," Mr. Alexander chuckled.

"Oh, of course, of course, forgive me, dear, it is simply I have not seen you in so long a time. I have missed your presence in our shop, isn't that right, Thomas?"

"Indeed, it is, Molly."

Elizabeth could not contain her smile, her heart soared at how much these two people cared for her. She had always liked to think of them as her adopted parents when she was a girl. She had left not knowing she was to be sent to school and had not the chance to ask for correspondence.

"Well, should things go as I believe they are, you shall be seeing me quite often." Elizabeth kindly smiled, not letting on to too much.

Molly and Thomas both smiled, "Wonderful! Now Thomas, why do you not show our dear girl around?"

"Of course, Molly."

Elizabeth re-wrapped her arm around Mr. Alexander's as he led her down the many shelves. Elizabeth left with four books, two orders, and the promise of lunch-in on the morrow. Her heart light as Richard led her to the carriage bound for Pemberley.

….

"Mr. Darcy, you have visitors," Mr. Phillips, one of Darcy's footmen, announced.

Darcy felt his heart rate speed up, "Excellent, please inform Miss Georgiana."

"Very good, sir," he bowed, exiting.

Darcy quickly stood from his seat and pulled on his jacket, straightening it. He ran his hands through his black waves of hair and took a deep breath, walking towards the entrance to wait for Georgiana. His stomach was all tingly and his hands felt sweaty. He shook his head, _get a grip man!_ He reprimanded himself.

"Brother! Brother, they are here!" Georgiana all but bounded into the room.

Darcy chuckled before nodding, "Yes, now calm down Georgiana, you are a lady."

Georgiana let out a small laugh, "Forgive me, Brother."

"No need," he replied as they walked out the doors of Pemberley and onto the stone steps. Watching as the carriage pulled up.

 **(A/N: The end)**

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 **(A/N: Completely joking. That would be quite cruel though. I could not help myself. Continuing reading.)**

…

Elizabeth looked out the window as they pulled up to Pemberley. She saw Mr. Darcy standing tall, straight, and hands clasped behind him. His face expressionless. Elizabeth smiled a small smile at the sight of Georgiana. She had grown and was quite pretty too.

She felt Richard grasp her hand, "You will be fine, Elizabeth. I am right beside you."

Elizabeth nodded, looking terrified and wanting to flee as the carriage came to a stop in front of the home.

Elizabeth let out a deep breath as the door was pulled open and Richard stepped out. Elizabeth felt decidedly nauseous and slightly dizzy. Her stomach was in a whirlwind of tingles and drops. Her heart rising to her throat only to plummet to the pit of her belly.

"Richard, a pleasure to see you again," Elizabeth heard Darcy speak. Her heart dropping again. She took deep breath after deep breath. She was weary of hyperventilating. She closed her eyes and pressed both hands to her stomach, a vain attempt to calm herself.

"Elizabeth?" Richard questioned, peaking his head into the carriage.

Elizabeth only gave a frightened smile before standing and taking Richard's hand. She stepped out onto the first step and heard an intake of breath.

…..

Darcy lost his breath as Elizabeth came into view. Her eyes focused on the steps down from the carriage, but she looked magnificent. Dressed in a deep purple as to mourn her Father, hair neatly tucked in a bonnet. He could see she was trying, to no avail, to keep her lower lip from her teeth. The action causing Darcy to stare longingly at her pink lips. Refocusing on her face when both her feet were planted on the ground.

He stepped closer to her, staring intently into her chocolate eyes. Darcy, with movements painfully slow, took her outstretched hand and languidly moved it to his lips, planting an openmouthed kiss upon her hand. He heard her intake of breath, and watched, his eyes never having left her, eyes darken the slightest. He smirked to himself as he rose.

…

Elizabeth's breath was stolen when she felt him kiss her hand. She swore she felt his tongue against her upturned hand. However, the thought did not disgust her, far from it, she felt tingly in her stomach.

"Lady Elizabeth."

"Mr. Darcy," she breathlessly returned, and all of sudden all the angry feelings and resentment returned in a rush. She could not help it, it simply just appeared, it was the way he seemed so in control and dominate.

….

Richard, who had turned to greet Miss Georgiana, turned to see Darcy and Elizabeth staring intently at one another. His first instinct was to whisk his sister away. However it was replaced by a smile and a happy heart. His sister would be in love come their wedding. He was sure of it.

…

Darcy could not pull his eyes away from his Elizabeth. She was even more beautiful then he remembered. He decided purple was his favorite color on her. She looked even more the part of a queen when she wore it.

"Please, do come in. Georgiana and I have a picnic set for lunch-in, should you be interested."

"We would be delighted," Richard replied.

Darcy looked over to Elizabeth, silently asking her. She only smiled. Darcy felt his heart drop a bit at the action but quickly pushed it away. Presenting her his arm he led her into the house, Richard and Georgiana behind them.

He leaned in and said in a whisper, "I thought you would enjoy looking at the grounds. Therefore, I assumed a picnic would be appreciated."

He felt Elizabeth shiver into him as his breath caressed her ear. She kept her face forward as she responded, "The thoughtfulness is appreciated. I thank you."

Darcy let out an inner sigh at her response. He had not known what to expect from such a thoughtful gesture but it definitely was not this. Darcy only went back to looking before him as they entered the house. The footmen coming to take their outerwear. Elizabeth pulled her bonnet from her head revealing her modestly wrapped hair on top. Darcy loved Elizabeth's hair. He wanted to run his fingers through every curl as he traced kisses down her slender neck.

"Mrs. Reynolds will show you to your rooms, so you may freshen up and rest if you wish," Darcy trailed off.

Richard, waiting for Elizabeth to reply, sighed. "Thank you, Darcy. The gesture is appreciated. I have no need at the moment but perhaps Mrs. Reynolds could show Elizabeth to her room?"

"Of course, Mrs. Reynolds, please show Lady Elizabeth to her chambers."

"Very good, sir," Mrs. Reynolds curtsied before leading Elizabeth up to her chambers.

"Forgive her, Darcy. I will not relate to you what happened for it is not my story to share, but she has been through quite a lot. Give her time, she shall come around."

Darcy nodded.

"Miss Georgiana, accept my apology on her behalf as well. I am sure she did not mean to forget about you."

Georgiana smiled, the look of confusion and hurt replaced by understanding. "No need, Colonel. I understand she has gone through many trials. I have a bit of experience in that regard."

The men exchanged glances, "Of course, thank you for being so forgiving," Richard replied.

Darcy turned away from the conversation as he watched Elizabeth ascend the stairs to her room. His heart beating erratically.

…..

Elizabeth was in a trance-like state as Mrs. Reynolds led her to her chambers. The old woman was speaking, spouting things about the house, however, Elizabeth could not bring herself to listen.

"Here you are, dear," The housekeeper smiled as she held the door open for Elizabeth.

"Thank you," She replied with a grateful smile before entering her room. Mrs. Reynolds left Elizabeth to freshen up, softly closing the door upon her retreat.

Elizabeth sighed, what was Darcy doing to her? Putting her up in this room. She felt tears reach her eyes. This was the room she always stayed in when her family would visit. Darcy's room was across the hall and five doors over to the left. That is if he still occupied it. Richard's room was across the hall and four doors over to the left. His room always right next to Darcy's. Georgiana's must be right next to Elizabeth's then, as she had far outgrown the nursery.

Elizabeth looked about the old room, the room she had not seen in some time. The walls were a light blue, to match the sky. The curtains a cream color on all the four, ceiling to floor windows. The bed, a mahogany four poster, very much the same as Elizabeth's at the manor and Matlock, lay in the center of the room up against the north wall. When someone entered the bed was their first sight. The covers, decorating the fine mattress, were of the same blue as the walls. Intricate, little designs of ivory color twisted up in a parallel motion upon the walls. The ceiling was painted in a deeper shade of blue, the sky in the morning time. White puffs decorated it mocking the clouds in the actual sky. Mrs. Darcy had Elizabeth's ceiling painted one summer when Elizabeth expressed her delight for God's blue sky. Elizabeth was so surprised and so thankful she burst into tears and ran into Mrs. Darcy's arms.

Elizabeth laughed at the memory, a deep, humorless laugh, it seemed Elizabeth had more parental figures who cared for her than her own two parents did. She realized with a sudden jolt how blessed she was to have so many people in her life who loved her, even if a few were deceased. They had still loved her once.

A knock at the door brought Elizabeth from her musings. Thinking it was Richard she called a quiet, "Enter."

She saw Darcy peak his head in before walking partially in, one hand holding the door. The action showing Elizabeth he would depart should she want him to.

"Pardon my intrusion, I only wished to check after your welfare."

Elizabeth nodded, "I am well. I thank you."

Darcy nodded his head in return, "Good, very good. I suppose I will be off then. I ... you … whenever you are able we will depart for our lunch-in."

"Why this room?" Elizabeth questioned. She had turned away from him and was looking about her.

"Are you unhappy?"

Elizabeth turned her face to meet his gaze, "No."

Darcy nodded again, walking into the room, leaving the door ajar. "I suppose it seemed odd to place you somewhere different. You always stayed in this room. I remember Mother even had the ceiling painted for you; you stayed her so frequently."

Elizabeth gave a timid smile before turning back to look about her once more. "I received your letter," Elizabeth emotionlessly reported.

"Ah, yes, well," Darcy said clearing his throat. His heart jumping and then falling, not knowing what emotion it should feel. Joy that she had read his letter, that she knew his feelings, or anticipation. Not knowing what her thoughts and feelings were on the letter.

"How did you come across my journal? It is always on my person."

Darcy walked closer to Elizabeth who now stared out the window. He stood directly behind her, his hands clasped behind him. Fear encasing him as he was tempted to reach out and place his hands upon her shoulders. Run his hands down the length of her arms and brush her fingers, before splaying across her abdomen.

"It was the night your Mother had me for supper. When Richard, your Father, and I dispersed from you ladies into the study, I excused myself on behalf of finding a book my Father believed to have left behind. Though he is long deceased, I told your brother and Father I wished to retrieve it and place where it belonged, at Pemberley. Upon entering the library, I found your journal lying open upon a desk at the window. I did not read anything, Elizabeth,"

"Lady Elizabeth," she corrected.

Darcy felt his heart wrench, "My lady," he pardoned. "I only flipped to the last couple of pages as an idea took hold of me, before I knew what I was doing my hand was flying across the pages, replying to each of your letters and confessing my feelings for you, dearest-" Darcy cut off his words as he noticed Elizabeth go rigid.

"Lady Elizabeth."

"I shall be down shortly, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied in the same emotionless tone. She could not handle the conversation she was sure would ensue.

"Of course, forgive my intrusion."

Elizabeth only nodded still staring out the window. Darcy wanted to reach out to her, grasp her shoulders and shake her. He wanted to stare deeply into Elizabeth's eyes and convince her through his stare all the emotions he held for this woman. Darcy, instead, sighed and dejectedly walked away.

Elizabeth heard the click of the door and let out a long held breath. Darcy had been close, too close, she had not been able to think rationally. She should not have asked those questions. She should have played ignorant. Why, though? Before she left, she had made up her mind to not fight this arrangement but to embrace it. This would be her life, but she still could not seem to shake her resentment towards Darcy. She would wed him, be a dutiful wife and mistress to the estate, bear his children, and all the while would hide behind a mask. Her Mother had succeed in giving her one thing, a veil of indifference to hide behind.

Elizabeth fixed her hair and straightened her gown before leaving the room and walking through the all too familiar halls. She closed her eyes for a brief second and exhaled. These halls held too many memories, too many pains. These halls were where she first met Darcy.

 _"Now, Lizzy, what have Mother and you discussed?"_

 _"To be a big girl." Four- year-old Elizabeth replied as she looked up at her Mother._

 _Eleanor smiled, "Yes, and to act like a lady, and what do we receive should this happen?"_

 _Little Elizabeth contemplated for a moment, "Um …"_

 _"Ah ha, never say um. Think only within your head," Eleanor reprimanded._

 _Elizabeth looked down ashamedly, "I will receive a new gown."_

 _Eleanor smiled brightly at her daughter as the carriage pulled up to Pemberley. "Precisely. Good child. Miss Chestfield, please take the children to the nursery as soon as introductions are made."_

 _"Very good, my Lady," the old governess replied._

 _Elizabeth was excited to meet these new people. Her Mother and Father talked of them relentlessly and always said how they wished for the children to be acquainted. The Darcy's had invited the Fitzwilliam's to stay at Pemberley for a month to be able to visit. The Fitzwilliam's and Darcy's being very good friends. Having spent much time together they agreed the children should meet this visit. The season was summer and the perfect time as everyone traveled during this season. The adults would be able to visit and chat and the children would be entertained with one another._

 _Elizabeth stared out the carriage window as they pulled around to the front of the house. Where a queen and a king stood and a dashing prince, at least, in Elizabeth's eyes. The King was very regal looking, with black hair and a black beard nicely kept. He was tall, his hands were clasped behind him and his shoulders squared. The queen was beautiful, with hair the color of the sun and dressed in a petal pink gown. Her hands clasped in front of her and her blue eyes staring at the carriage, a slight smile playing on her lips._

 _Elizabeth looked over to her own Mother. She looked queenly too, but she reminded Elizabeth more of the evil queen than the nice queen._

 _Then Elizabeth's eyes fell upon the dashing prince. He had hair much like the king's and was quite tall for a boy his age. Mother told her he was Richard's age. He stood tall like his Father and looked too serious for a boy. Elizabeth knew she must fix that. He had beautiful brown eyes, Elizabeth loved brown eyes because hers were brown too._

 _Elizabeth's eyes then strayed to the house, or castle as she saw it. The home was massive and decked with many large windows. Pillars lined certain areas and the house had many intricate designs carved into the building. The place seemed to extend for forever in Elizabeth's eyes._

 _The carriage came to a halt, the door opened and Father stepped out, helped Mother out and then proceeded to help Thomas, Richard and Elizabeth out. The governess coming out with the help of a footmen and standing off to the side, her eye on the children._

 _"Eleanor, Walter, what a pleasure! I am so pleased you were able to come," The Queen smiled. Elizabeth smiled up at the lady, she could not help it, the lady made her want to smile._

 _"Yes, Walter, we are glad you could join us," The King added in a rich baritone voice. "Let me introduce my son, Fitzwilliam George Darcy of Pemberley Derbyshire."_

 _"Mr. Darcy," Mother and Father greeted. The young prince bowed towards her parents._

 _"My children, George. Viscount Thomas Walter Fitzwilliam, Richard John Fitzwilliam, and Lady Elizabeth Grace Fitzwilliam of Matlock."_

 _The King and Queen bowed their heads, "A pleasure," they replied._

 _The prince looked at Elizabeth with a sneer on his face, in return Elizabeth smiled brightly._

"Lady Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shook her head of the memory as she heard a feminine voice call her name.

"Lady Elizabeth, are you well?"

Elizabeth eyes focused and landed on a girl of possibly fourteen. Elizabeth was reminded strongly of the Queen in her memory. A smile lit her face as recognition dawned.

"Miss Georgiana! You must excuse my behavior for ignoring you upon my arrival. I confess my wits were not about me. Look at how beautiful you have grown!"

Georgiana looked at the floor as a blush climbed across her face. "No need to apologize, my Lady. Colonel Richard asked me to retrieve you for our lunch-in."

"Miss Georgiana you must call me Lizzy, I insist."

Georgie's eyes lit up, "Only if you call me Georgiana."

"I would be delighted. Lunch-in? Of course, I was headed that way as we speak. Care to accompany me?"

Georgie's smile grew, "I would be honored," she giggled as she wrapped her arm around Elizabeth's.

"Tell me, Georgiana, are you responsible for this picnic?"

"Oh, of course not! The idea was all my Brother's. He told me how much you loved the grounds of Pemberley and how you would wish to be reacquainted with them. I only set the picnic up. I hope you enjoy it, I was not sure what you proffered so I had Cook fix a bit of everything."

Elizabeth smiled absentmindedly, "I am sure it will be delicious." Darcy said he had arranged a picnic for her pleasure but had never thought he had put so much, well…thought into it. The information made her weary.

…..

Darcy and Richard sat in his study as Georgiana left to retrieve Elizabeth.

"She will come around, Darcy. Give her time, as I said before, she went through quite the trial before leaving. Her mind is not where it should be, or used to be," Richard added.

Darcy looked up from his glass of whiskey, he should not be drinking at twelve in the afternoon.

"I only thought things would be different upon her arrival. I knew she would need time, and was not exactly herself, but I did not imagine this. She is a walking corpse, Richard."

Richard frowned, "Time, Darcy, time," was all Richard replied with.

Darcy frowned deeper before standing from his chair and downing his drink, exhaling and reveling in the burn. "Come, Richard, the ladies should be down any moment."

The men left the study just as the women walked down the last step. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and she hesitantly took it. Richard giving his to Georgian, who smiled brightly.

"You must allow me to express my apologies once more at my intrusion, my Lady," Darcy spoke, his eyes never leaving what was in front of him.

"There is no need, sir, this is your home."

"Yes, and it will be yours soon too," Darcy bit out. He had not meant to say it and so rudely at that but there it was. He was frustrated with Elizabeth. Why was she not … not … different? She was supposed to be deeply in love with him. He had finely accepted her feelings and returned them in full and now that he had she was to play ignorant?

Elizabeth felt the anger rise in her chest. "For it may be mine soon sir, it was never by choice. This _home_ will forever be my decorated prison and you shall always be my capture, and for that I will never forgive you," Elizabeth spit before untangling her arm from his and turning to Georgiana.

"Come Georgiana, show me this wonderful picnic you have set up," Elizabeth smiled.

Georgie smiled back before excusing herself from Richard and walking off with Elizabeth.

Darcy hung his head and sighed.

"Well, you evoked some form of emotion. She looks positively livid," Richard mused.

 **A/N: I can feel the heated argument coming! Answers, so many answers on the horizon. So last chapter I received a lot of constructive criticism. I thank you, for that is exactly why I posted this story in the first place, to better myself as a writer. I love all your reviews, they feed my muse wonderfully. I am on a break of sorts this week so perhaps I shall get more chapters out, or I could be dreadfully lazy and get none out. I guess it depends on how I feel.**

 **Much Love,**

 **~Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Elizabeth sat starring at her scar laced hands as she sat at the writing desk. Her left hand twitching causing her minor pain. They were easy to hide and easy to forget about. Having only scarred the inside of her hands, the palms, as the headmistress could not scar a lady's hands. She would never find a husband with hands scarred, but she was able to evade retribution for scarring a part of the hand no one ever really sees or pays attention to. The scars were small in length but many, all of them long healed and the color of her skin. They almost appeared as if the lines tracing her palms had risen to the surface. Hardly noticeable unless pointed out or felt. Her headmistress had been very precise in only striking the palms. Never her wrists, or fingers, or upside of her hands, always with perfect precision upon the palms.

Elizabeth, however, had been punished more so than any other girl and was starting to see the lasting effects of her beatings. Her hands would occasionally twitch, especially her left, and would sometimes be overcome with a heated, numb, tingly feeling. The odd sensation she would patiently wait out, but the feeling seemed to happen for longer bouts of time anymore.

Elizabeth sighed as she tucked her hands under her chin and replayed the rest of the day's events in her head.

The picnic had been wonderful. Georgiana had done a marvelous job. The green grass had been covered in a blue spread blanket. Large enough for all four of them to lay about and enjoy their meal. Cook had prepared fresh bread, honey-glazed ham, soft cheeses, and an array of fruits. Tea had been served on the table set off to the side and fresh scones. Elizabeth had eaten heartily. Gushing over what a glorious job Georgiana had done.

She chatted idly with Richard and Georgiana and gave the occasional comment or so to Darcy. She could not help the feeling nor understand the anger rising in her at the man, it was not until supper did Elizabeth hit the nail upon the head. Though she was want to admit it and continued on with her more or less feelings of resentment.

The group had departed after supper to their respective activities from whence Elizabeth went to her chambers. Her journal splayed across the writing desk.

 _I have arrived at Pemberley and I am all trepidation. My heart beats widely for me to give in, to forgive Darcy for all his misdeeds, to love the man I have so longed to love. My head, my ignorant stubborn head! Tells me to be cautious and callous. Avenge my childhood self in making this man suffer for the pain he caused me. But it is not in my person to hate, to cause revenge, and to make one suffer when I know so fully how it feels._

 _I had a revelation at supper, when Darcy did nothing but stare at me. Just as he did when we were children, and when we were reacquainted in London. Only this time, this time I could see. I could clearly see. He was looking into my very soul, prodding it and questioning it. Whispering sweet promises to my wounded soul. My heart leapt inside my chest and a blush overcame my features as I realized the name of the intensity at which he stared at me with. Passion, a cold, hard, deep passion and need._

 _Then, then is when I realized the words he poured out to you on the last few pages…are true. They mean exactly what he wrote. It was not a cruel jest, it was not a dream or some morbid nightmare, it was real and it was true and oh! Oh how foolish and silly I feel, and utterly ashamed. I am the exact little girl I was seven years ago. Silly and willfully misunderstanding and…and…stubborn. I believed for so long those letters reached him and some event or other kept him from replying. I believed so fully as to give myself hope, I placed all my hopes upon this man and when he did not come through I was dropped. I began from that day of realization to prove to Darcy I was not a fragile little girl. And now, now this blessing. This blessing to save me by a perfect design comes along and I am so shattered and distrustful and silly, I disregard it and pushed my savior away. The one man who, though he was technically never there for me…was. He may have said cruel things to me, broke my heart twice over, and became my captor, but in reality he did all those things to save me. He saved me. He had never thought of me as fragile, he had always thought of me as strong and_ _ **that**_ _was my revelation. Darcy did all those things to help me, because Darcy had always, in some odd way, whether it was at first small admiration or friendly love, loved me._

Elizabeth abruptly dropped her quill and stood from her chair. "OH! How foolish and silly I have been!" She cried to herself as she ran her hands through her long hair. Sighing and pacing about her room she walked towards the window. Seven thirty. She sighed again, everyone would still be up. Deciding on a bath she rang for a maid.

"You rang, Ma'am?"

Elizabeth gave a shaky smile, "Yes, could you have a bath prepared, please?"

"Certainly, Ma'am," the kind old woman replied before heading off.

Not long after Elizabeth was resting in the copper tub full of warm water thinking. She needed to speak with Darcy. Come the morrow she would speak to him…regarding everything.

….

Darcy sat in his study his head held in his hands, a glass of brandy beside him. Richard had gone off to bed not long after Georgiana and Elizabeth had. He needed to speak with Elizabeth immediately. She needed to know everything before they could became reacquainted and from there wed. That was the only solution Darcy could bring forth to rectify the situation.

Elizabeth was not herself and he would bring her back.

…..

Elizabeth stepped from her bath and dried herself off, stepping into her nightgown and letting her hair down from its clasps. Elizabeth did not feel up to the task of washing her hair at the moment and had wrapped it high atop her head with hairpins. She glanced at her window and saw it was dark now and decided she could safely venture down to the library. She simply had too much on her mind to sleep and reading always calmed her nerves. Grabbing her dressing robe and throwing it about herself she made her way down the long hallway, down the marble steps, and turned right in a U shape. Meeting with a wall where she turned right again. Down another long hallway and to the left was a simply door that looked like all the other doors in Pemberley. However, Elizabeth knew this door led to the third library Pemberley was home to, and her favorite.

She had discovered it on one of her visits one summer and never left. She had read almost every book it played host to. She devoured them as one would a sweet delicacy. Opening the door she was met with a small hall which led to yet another normal looking door. She turned the handle and walked in on the most petit yet wondrous library she had been in. She smiled as she fully entered the room and walked to browse the shelfs and run her fingers across the beloved books.

She continued to let the smile remain on her face as she felt that spine and examined that novel and read that page. She was in utter bliss.

"How did I know you would be here?"

Elizabeth jumped in surprise making her drop the book she was inspecting. Her hand flew to her chest as she turned toward the intruder.

"Mr. Darcy! You almost scared me to my grave." She replied breathlessly.

Darcy cocked a smirk, "My apologies."

Elizabeth stared at Mr. Darcy, her heart beating erratically, and her hand still covering her racing heart. Only now there was no chance of it slowing down. Now that her true feelings had once again resurfaced she feared her heart rate would never be the same when around this man. She had hid behind anger, resentment, hurt and confusion for too long and she was desperately ready to be happy again.

Darcy was still dressed in his supper attire, something Elizabeth found dashingly prince like. She smiled at the memory.

"I fear you have apologized far too much today, Mr. Darcy. I also fear I have not apologized enough. You must forgive my aloof emotions. They seem to have a mind of their own. Always did though. You must accept my humblest apologies, Mr. Darcy. You have been nothing but kind and understanding throughout all of this and I have been dreadfully aloof and resentful."

Darcy stared at his love with a hope beating fiercely behind his heart. He walked a bit closer to her as she continued. He wanted to see those deep, passionate eyes. His breath had already left him upon finding her with her hair cascading around her and dressed in only her nightgown and dress robe. He would sleep very well indeed tonight.

"I have come to the conclusion that I wanted, needed, someone to cast all my anger upon and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And with those words I feel so ashamed of my actions towards you I can barely stand here before you and speak. Forgive me."

Darcy stepped closer to his Elizabeth. She was so beautiful standing near the books with only the dim candle alighting her features. She was biting her lip and looking at her fidgeting hands, her hair a black curtain around her. So long and glorious all he wanted to do was become lost in its beauty.

"I forgive you," Darcy whispered in her ear, his warm breath encasing her ear and sending shivers down her spine. Much like when he kissed her hand.

"M-Mr. Darcy," she breathed.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" he huskily breathed back, another shiver down her spine.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and let the feeling of his breath running down her neck envelope her. This was not at all how she expected Mr. Darcy to act. She had thought he would forgive her, of course, but would have been slightly wounded at her attitude towards him, and from there extend a friendship which would blossom over time. She did not think … think … he would be so roguish.

Darcy, who could care less about his feelings being wounded, was lost deep in thought, in that moment he was so tempted to grasp her lips with his he stopped thinking straight. This loss of thinking straight caused him stare deeply and longingly at Elizabeth, all his emotions displayed before her.

"Mr. Darcy, I have more I wish to say," Elizabeth choked out as the heat of his breath traveled across her face.

"Speak, dearest," was all Darcy could say as he was still staring longingly at her lips.

Elizabeth groaned as she felt his hand begin to trace her face. Her eyebrow, down her temple and jawline. "Mr. Darcy?"

"Hm?" he grunted as he continued to become lost in the feel of her skin under his touch. How long he had imagined what it would feel like and how pleased he was to find the treasure so much more.

"I am going to need you to stop if you want me to speak properly."

He moved back to her ear, "What if I do not wish for you to speak properly, Elizabeth?" Her name rolling off his tongue like a blessing.

"Please," she begged in almost a whimper. "I need you to hear what I have to say."

Darcy stepped away from her, watching as her eyes fluttered open, a becoming blush crawling up her face.

"Mr. Darcy, I must ask you about my letters. I know you received them for in your note to me you answered questions and sentiments I expressed in them. Why did you never reply?" Elizabeth quickly breathed as not to lose her courage.

Darcy closed his eyes as pain captured his heart. He was regretting ever stepping nearer as he could now clearly see the hurt in his beloved eyes.

"Elizabeth," He started, knowing there was no easy way to say this without hurting her. "Elizabeth, you must realize I had no choice."

Elizabeth gasped at the answer, her jaw falling open in disbelief.

"No choice?" Elizabeth faintly questioned. "No choice?" She questioned again, her temper and hurt getting the better of her, "Pray tell, Mr. Darcy, what exactly did you not have a choice in? Hm? Allow me to help you. Was it maybe your mind? Your conscience, perhaps? Or maybe, maybe your heart? All things you have utter control over."

"Elizabeth, please listen, try to understand."

"Understand?" she shouted stepping away from him. "Understand that you broke my heart and made me unable to trust again. Understand that you were my closest friend next to Richard and you squashed me under your oh-so-important foot? Understand that after promising me you would write and then ripping it from my hands, for which I did not pay heed to, and you still could not write one letter telling me you received them, or to leave you be? And here I was so foolish to think I could count on you when all you have ever done is hurt me."

"Elizabeth, it is not as it seems," Darcy tried in vain to convince her. "It was not my doing. I was under orders, besides, you were a child and I was an adult. Writing you would have been highly improper as well as you being a girl. And my heart, Elizabeth, my heart I have control over? If that is so than so should you, and it would not have been broken. Mayhap you should not have put your hope and the heart you have control over so dependently on me! I never asked for it! You should not make me feel ashamed for something that was in _your_ control, as you so delicately put it."

Elizabeth stared at him in horror, "Oh Mr. Darcy, how the humble have fallen."

Darcy becoming aggravated stared at Elizabeth hard, his temper now getting the better of him. The need to defend himself overpowering his senses. "I could not indulge in your silly fantasies anyhow, it would have been wrong of me. I did not want to hurt you by giving you false hope, besides, as I stated before, I was sixteen and you were eleven. How was I to know you would change into this beautiful, respectable, intelligent woman? This wonderful woman I would come to ardently admire and love?"

Elizabeth let out an indignant gasp. Her hand flying to cover her mouth as the other pressed against her stomach. Hot, angry tears welling in her shocked and disbelieving eyes. "Oh! I cannot indeed, begin to comment on what you only now uttered. My fantasies, Mr. Darcy, my _fantasies?_ I wrote to you not as a silly child in love but as a friend. Mr. Darcy, for that was all I wanted was friendship. I had not thought of if something should come of it, all I wanted was your friendship. I could always tell you things I never could tell anyone else, and in that school I desperately needed that, but as you so humbly placed it, I should not have cast me hopes upon you. You were correct in that assessment, you never asked for it and had even told me before you left to leave you be. However, as to your preposterous not knowing's. I was a _child_ when you last saw me, of course I would grow and mature! What did you believe would happen? I would not be worthy of _thee_ Mr. Darcy? That I would still be an adolescent child who climbed trees and fought with wooden swords? No! Might I remind you, I thoroughly had such things beaten out of me. Quite literally, Mr. Darcy. Do you wish to see? Do you wish to see why I needed, why I craved, the comfort of a friend? For that was all I wanted, a _friend._ Mr. Darcy, a friend." Elizabeth cried as she shoved her hands into Mr. Darcy's face. Pulling on her left wrist with her right hand. "Watch closely, Mr. Darcy, for it is not only the scars, no, it is so much more."

Darcy's eyes widened and his heart clenched at his beloveds words. Tears burning his eyes as he traced her palms with his eyes. Looking at every smooth, skin colored scar. Barely noticeable unless pointed out. Elizabeth was still holding her left wrist in her hand, shoving it into his face once more as it began to twitch.

Elizabeth let out a gasp as the hot tingles raced through both palms, a worst pain than ever before, and she collapsed at the waist. Bending forward in agony as her cries filled the room. Darcy quickly rushing to her side as fear encased him and worry overrode his features. Making the shame he felt over his untrue words disappear.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, tell me what is the matter so I may help you," He began as his hands lowered to her back and shoulder.

"Do not touch me!" she screamed. "Do not ever touch me," she repeated in a pained whisper.

Darcy could quite literally feel his heart break in two at her words, an anguish he had never felt before washing over him. He realized with an aching start this is how Elizabeth must have felt, only worse.

The pain in Elizabeth's hands began to subside and she continued on, "I so hoped in vain that you, a dear friend, would write me back. I admit to having feelings for you. I was a silly child who developed a childhood fancy for her brother's friend, but I believed you to be my friend as well. I knew nothing could come of my inane fancy for you, so I moved on to the next best thing. Friendship, which I thought you happily obliged me in. Though I see I was very wrong. How silly of me, Mr. Darcy," She bitterly wept as she fell to the floor.

Darcy hung his head in shame, guilt riddling his senses, "At the time I thought the best way to shake off Richard's clingy little sister was to give into the commands of the person who forbid me to respond. It all seemed easy enough to shake off my nonsensical growth of feelings for said sister. That is until I began to read every letter you sent and my heart broke with every new word. I was about to give in and write you when my parent's death accord, after which I completely shut everyone out of my life. However, your letter you sent me, consoling me and throwing caution to the wind, was a beacon of light in my ever growing darkness. I began to look forward to your letters but as time went on and they became few and far between, and you began to lose hope, I could no longer bear to read them. Reading your letters was agony for me, but Elizabeth, not being able to respond was utter torture," Darcy finished as he gazed at Elizabeth, still bent at the waist and crying. He did not know if he could take her heart-wrenching face much longer before he gave way to instinct and wrapped her in his arms.

Lip trembling and throat closed she gasped, "Who?"

Darcy looked down in shame and closed his eyes. He never wanted to tell her. She had already lost such care and love in her parents and look what became of her. She had been abandoned by what she thought was her first love and had been broken. When she found out who had caused her such pain Darcy feared she may not be able to come back. This would be the final twist in her already stabbed and bleeding heart. She would either have to learn to live with the knife forever plunged in her heart causing a gasp of pain with every pump, or she would have to remove the blade and bleed out as she gave up. Wanting nothing more than relief and on the edge of giving anything for it.

"Richard."

Elizabeth made a sound between a last breath of an aged person before death, and that of a young girl breathing and it being cut short as a sword pierced her heart. She crumbled into him and wept bitterly. Her breathing hindered by her agonized squeaks of sound escaping her throat.

Darcy strongly wrapped Elizabeth into his arms. Holding her tightly against him as she continued to free her tears. Once she felt Darcy's strong embrace she buried her face in the crook of his neck as he sat on the ground with her. Softly he pet her hair and rubbed soothing circles into her back. The whole while remaining silent, she needed this. She needed to be able to cry and let out all the emotion she had kept locked away.

Elizabeth sniffled and rubbed her nose, stuttering in breath as she calmed herself. Darcy mutely handing her his handkerchief. She just as mutely took it. Once she had dried her tears and stopped her running nose she felt Darcy's arms start to loosen around her. Worried she would never have those arms wrapped tightly around her she did the first thing to come to mind. Elizabeth had never been comforted when she cried. She had always been left to hug and console herself and Elizabeth realized how wonderful it was to have someone else take over. She was able to calm herself quicker and with more ease knowing that was all she had to put her mind too.

Looking up at Darcy and staring into those black orbs which so resembled the night sky. She had always loved the night sky. He stared right back at her with such care and passion Elizabeth was happy they were already seated on the floor for she feared she would have melted at the sight. Taking a shaky breath she lifted one of her hands to his stubbly face, cupping his cheek in her palm. The sensation causing her hand to immediately stop twitching. He leaned into her touch and a sigh escaped both of their lips. Elizabeth, brow furrowed in tender care and adoration, examined Darcy's features. Lifting her hand from his cheek to trace each one with light fingers.

Full brows which matched his wavy obsidian hair. Long beautiful lashes resting upon wondrous eyes. Defined cheekbones and strong, chiseled jaw. Thin, straight nose and full, plump limps which parted slightly at her touch. Looking once more into those half-lidded eyes she asked him a silent question, to which he answered. First, by taking her hands in his and kissing each palm, "My beautiful, lovely, goddess," he muttered across her palms as he continued to plant kisses upon them.

Second, he grabbed her face between both hands as he fervidly closed the small space between them and merged their lips together. The gasp which wanted to leave Elizabeth's lips quickly swallowed by Darcy. Shivers like little needle pricks ran all up and down Elizabeth, to the very tips of her toes. She sighed as Darcy's hand moved from her cheek to bury in her hair in order to move her face in attendance with his. He, slowly starting to ply her lips apart, after the hard first meeting of their mouths.

She tasted so sweet, Darcy wanted to immediately taste the rest of her mouth but knew he should not push her. Not when she was still in a fragile state and not when she was so new to this, but she tasted so good Darcy could not help the slight action of running his tongue against her bottom lip before he pulled away. Slowly resting their foreheads against each other's, their labored breathing mixing and heating their faces.

"Elizabeth," Darcy whispered in a deep sultry voice before kissing her jaw. Peppering it with open mouthed kisses down to her slender neck. The moan which left Elizabeth causing her to blush deeply at her wantonness and Darcy to smile against her perfectly lovely neck.

"Forgive me, Mr. Darcy, I do not know what came over me," she pleaded as she covered her mouth in shame.

Darcy could not help the chuckle that escaped him, "Elizabeth, you have nothing to beg forgiveness for. I find your little sounds of pleasure delighting, as long as I am the only one to hear them."

Elizabeth blushed even more at his forwardness making Darcy smile brighter. His heart was beating furiously. His head in the clouds. Elizabeth feeling much the same way. She looked up from her fidgeting hands and into Darcy's erotic graze.

"I suppose I must ask forgiveness for thinking so ill of you. I should have had more faith in you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy's brow lowered in worried urgency as he grasped her fidgeting hands, "Elizabeth, you have nothing to be sorry for. Everything which has befallen you is the fault of others. Never, never think you have anything to be sorry over. Elizabeth, you must, you must know how it broke my heart to read your letters and see in your writing as the light and hope slowly left you. I feared I would never be able to function knowing how you suffered. My days were spent in such agony and my nights in such affliction I feared I would perish before you returned. You must understand, Elizabeth, I wanted to write you but Richard is my closest friend, a brother, and I could not go against him. Precisely why I therefor listened to him when he told me to keep my distance when you returned. I did, Elizabeth, I did, until I realized I was giving up my heart in order to keep my friend, for with you, however, I would attain both."

"Why, Mr. Darcy? Why would Richard do such a terrible thing?"

Darcy looked into his love's sad eyes, his heart breaking once again to see her in such anguish. "That, I fear, Elizabeth, is a question only your brother may be able to answer."

"I have one more inquiry, Mr. Darcy, before I retire for the night, for my head and heart cannot withstand more this night. If you speak the way you do this instant and what you wrote to me was true, when?"

Darcy slowly grasped Elizabeth's chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet his eyes. When she at last met his stare dead on he slid the hand which held her chin and cupped her cheek. His other hand tracing the hands lying in her lap. "When you came to comfort me before you and I parted ways. I was cruel to you for the reason I was afraid and fearful and in denial. Afraid I had lost my senses, fearful of the outcome, and in denial because of our age. So, I stored my feelings away knowing I was mixing them up for love and it could not really be such a silly thing and never bothered with them. That is, until I received your last letter and realized how dear you had grown to my heart and how I had unknowingly kept every one of your letters. I lov—'' Darcy was cut off by the action of lips meeting his. The action brief before Elizabeth pulled away. Her doe eyes meeting his in a desperate plea.

"Not yet, not until I may say it back. Please, if you can."

Darcy only answered by kissing her again. His hand slipping into her hair and the other snaking around her waist to pull her closer. His mouth only just opening when she pulled away.

"Good night, Mr. Darcy," She smiled as she untangled herself from his grasp and stood from the floor. Giving him one last look before walking from the library leaving Darcy staring hungrily after her. _The wicked woman_ , he thought with a groan as, he too, departed the library. His dreams full of Elizabeth.

…..

The next morning Elizabeth woke as the sun was rising. Smiling brightly she hopped from the bed and quickly walked to the window where upon she found the green grass rising happily to meet the rising sun. Deciding then and there to walk about the grounds she rung for Lucy.

"Morning, Ma'am," Lucy bobbed a curtsy. "Oh, Miss, your hair!" Lucy gasped before she could catch herself. "Pardon me, Ma'am, I was out of line."

Elizabeth whose hand flew to her hair only smiled as she walked to the mirror. Laughing gaily as she looked upon her mass of tangled hair, having forgotten to braid it the night before.

"Oh, Lucy, it must have slipped my mind to braid it before I fell asleep."

Lucy let a knowing smile form on her lips, it seemed the master and her mistress were getting along quite well. She smiled at her mistress, "No problem, Ma'am. I will brush it out for ya."

Elizabeth smiled kindly back, "Thank you, Lucy. I think once my hair is in order I should like to go on a walk."

"Certainly, Ma'am."

Once Lucy had detangled Elizabeth's hair she helped her dress into a dark, navy blue gown as close to black as possible. Dressed and with hair pulled in a long braid over her shoulder, as it was still quite early in the morning she did not expect it have a run in with anyone, she left her chambers.

Walking through the long halls and into the kitchen Elizabeth grabbed a pastry and orange and made her way to the countryside. She smiled freely as she stepped into the tall grass and headed for the patch of forest she was so familiar with. She still had questions unanswered and her heart was still broken and heavy but she was healing and she realized this. She had realized it when she had her revelation at supper and furthermore with Darcy.

She smiled brightly at the thought of Darcy, her fiancé. They had yet to speak of the nuptials and Elizabeth found herself in great anticipation. She had loved the feeling of being comforted the night before as she bitterly wept on the library floor. The gesture was so new and unexpected and so very much welcomed it quite overwhelmed her. The thoughts following the action making her all the more joyous. Darcy would be there for her in such ways forever. He would always hold her when she needed it the most, he would always give her space when she needed it, always be her silent companion when it was required, and everything else that encompassed marrying your best friend.

Of course, Elizabeth realized Darcy and she had changed quite a bit within seven years, and the thrill of becoming better acquainted with him brought tingles to her fingers and straight to her toes. The man she briefly met before he departed London quite enticed her, if it had not been for her state of mind and circumstances being what they were, she would have indulged in furthering her knowledge of the man.

Elizabeth's trail of thoughts brought her to a most important question. Why had Darcy left in the first place? He had not been very specific. Relaying that he was departing London and would return, hopefully, within the season. What had caused Darcy to run off so? She knew had it been business affairs Darcy would have come for her Father's funeral, and surely if not for that Richard's departure, which was schedule the day after her Father had passed. No, it was not business, it was something more serious, concluded Elizabeth and reminding herself to question him about it when she next saw him.

Elizabeth had made her way into the woods and stopped. Closing her eyes and resting her hands upon an old tree trunk. She could feel the dirt specks and dust lay thinly over her hands. The rough tree bark a welcome feel. She breathed deeply the smell of awakening leaves and flowers turning their faces to the new day warmth. Elizabeth following quite happily in their footsteps. The breathless smile leaving her lips mingled with the slight morning breeze, carrying over the dancing grass. Elizabeth walked further into the woods, her heart and mind on one spot in particular. The spot where she had first felt Darcy's lips upon her person and a place she would forever cherish.

Elizabeth's eyes lit at the sight of the pond she had so loved as a child, it looked even more majestic than it did then. The waters slow renewal to the growing sun portraying a mirror laid forgotten in the gallivanting fur of the Earth. The sparkling sunbeams creating a magical feel to the area as they swiftly flitted across the rippling water. The sky's song being sung into its ear. Wildflowers decorating the face as angel kisses do, just a dusting over the nose. Elizabeth forgot to breathe as the beauty of it all encased her. Looking around and biting her lip she contemplated. She had swam many a time in this pond as a small girl, for it was private and encased in trees. Richard and Darcy had always gone swimming in the larger pond where the fish swam and the bridge lay. It was one of the many things Elizabeth had been left out of, so as a means to entertain herself she asked one of the maids, who had learned to swim from her cousin in her old hometown, to teach her.

The maid inquired after the job with her mistress and Mrs. Darcy, keeping hush about the whole proceedings, obliged as long as Elizabeth kept to the back pond and never spoke of it. Swimming was highly uncommon in woman. Elizabeth swam almost every day that summer and explained it all away with the excuse of always being dirty and always needing to bathe.

Elizabeth made up her mind to take a quick swim when she heard a twig snap. Jumping around with her hand to her heart Elizabeth spotted Mr. Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy, I fear we must stop meeting this way or I shall be dead before our wedding," Elizabeth gasped and quickly colored at her speech, not having meant to speak of their future. Fully intending for Mr. Darcy to be the one to initiate _that_ conversation.

A playful smirk overcame Darcy's features, "We could not have that now could we, love?"

Elizabeth looked down, embarrassed, "Mr. Darcy, I did not mean—''

"Elizabeth, please, you did not overstep any boundaries. I was hoping we might speak of that very thing today anyhow. However, I did not know you would be here this morn," he kindly smiled as he began to walk closer to her.

Elizabeth had the sudden thought of an animal stocking its prey, but was not bothered by the notion in the least. "Is that so, Mr. Darcy? Well, I did not anticipate meeting anyone either, as you may be able to tell. Pray, excuse me, while I fix this," Elizabeth pardoned as her hands flew to her hair to wrap into a bun at the nape of her neck.

"No!" Darcy shouted stepping closer to her still.

Elizabeth froze mid-action with confused eyes.

Darcy cleared his throat, "Forgive me, but no, your hair is fine, it is only I who has seen you and I am rather fond of your hair in such a way."

Elizabeth blushed prettily at the compliment, "Yes, well, I would have a better peace at mind if it was up."

Darcy pouted but did not intervene again. "Very well. What were you doing down here?"

Elizabeth pushed the last pin into her hair before answering, "I always go on walks in the morning. This was the place I just so thought of. I suppose it is because it is so sentimental to me."

Darcy looked around the small pond, "Yes, so it is. I remember you spending many a day's here. Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy turned to look at her as she was looking questioningly at him. Darcy had slept better the night before than he had in a long while. The memory and feel of Elizabeth keeping him pleasant company all through his dreams. He had woken this morning, like most mornings, with the need to ride his horse. Dressing and having his horse saddled he set out. He had just been passing the wooded area to the northeast when he spotted Elizabeth. He had smiled faintly to himself before hopping off his horse, tying it to a tree, and following her. His smile growing as he watched her touch every tree she passed all the while humming. He had not meant to make his presence known, content with watching his beloved. She seemed so different from when she had first arrived, and all the product of mere hours. She seemed carefree and weightless, which Darcy supposed she must be as she had removed a rather large weight from her shoulders the previous night. She seemed to have stopped fighting with her feelings, and though she was not yet able to speak them, she was allowing herself to feel them. Taking humbly the good with the bad. Darcy knew she must be devastated to find her brother, one of her most trusted friends, having deceived her, but he also knew she was content and joyous to final have found the love she had so been craving.

Elizabeth had not cared what love she received as long as she was loved, and Darcy knew she now was allowing herself to be loved, and he was going to make absolute certain she knew how much he loved her. He would have told her the night before, he would have told her over and over again how much he loved her, but she was not there yet and Darcy understood. He had vowed before going to sleep, however, that until the time came he would show her in big and little ways everyday how much and how deeply he loved Elizabeth Grace Fitzwilliam.

"Pray, forgive my sudden departure from London. The situation which beckoned my leave, was indeed, dire."

Elizabeth gave a sad smile before looking Darcy in his honey hued eyes, "I will not ask of what the situation consisted of, unless you divulge the information yourself, but I must say I was rather disappointed you did not show in the morning in Hyde Park. I was very much cast into a feeling of doubt and anger. I was doubtful of you having actually hinted at meeting me, and angry for allowing myself to believe it. When I arrived home, Mother had told me you had left London and did not expect to return until the next season. My heart broke the smallest amount then, for I had decided to become reacquainted with you, Mr. Darcy, at the expense of once again losing my heart to you. It was in that moment that I concluded to guard my heart against you forever, for if you could cause my heart to break the slightest at not showing for our hinted meeting, I knew you would be the death of me. I may a have been and still might be a troubled and broken soul, but I did not wish for death. Not when I can find comfort and solace in nature where upon I may find it in ink upon paper."

"Elizabeth, my sweet, beautiful, Elizabeth," Darcy cooed as his sad eyes searched her face, "I had fully intended to meet you that morning. I was hopping upon my horse the same moment an express from Georgiana was delivered. I instead saddled my horse and took off, not for Hyde Park, but for Pemberley. I fear I have much to tell you still yet."

"Mr. Darcy, I fear many people still have yet much to tell me."

 **Big thanks to EvelynRo for being amazing and completely kind and editing my last chapter. Thank you so so much!**

 **A/N: YAYA! They kissed, how sweet. Tell me what you thought, it was my first time ever writing something like it. I hope some of your questions were answered. Yay for Elizabeth finally reaching the stage of healing, it was a long time coming and now she may begin. I fear this story is coming very close to an end, not much left in my head. I predict only a few more chapters. Thanks for the lovely reviews, follows and faves, they make my day.**

 **Much love,**

 **~Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Eleanor Fitzwilliam lay in her bed staring past everything. Her eldest son sitting at her head on her right and her daughter-in-law at her left. She dragged her head and eyes towards her son who was grasping her hand.

"Thomas, should Elizabeth ask, tell her I love her. Tell her I have always loved her, tell her I simply was uncut to be a mother. Thomas, take good care of the Fitzwilliam name. Your father deserves that in the least. He was a fine man, a great man, he deserves for his name to be carried on in honor. Thomas, be a good Earl and be a good brother. I know you, Richard, and Lizzy never quite got along but make the attempt of cordiality. My motherly heart that seems to have come to me on my death bed yearns for it."

Eleanor turned her head back to staring past the ceiling as her breathing slowed and her eyelids drooped. Opening and drooping again with each labored breath. Eleanor had done much thinking since her daughter's departure. She was mad, angry, resentful, but most of all she was grief stricken. She had planned to keep her feelings at bay about her husband's death. She convinced herself if she did not acknowledge the pain it would go away. She had been doing so in other areas all her life. That is until Elizabeth brought to her recognition all the horrible and vile deeds she had undertaken.

Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam was finally brought to attention what a horrible woman she had become. She had been one for so long that the things she did seemed normal, right even. She had let the woes and whiles of society consume her. She had become a London ton Lady. Something she had often heard spoken of in her youth. Something she had vowed, from hearing her first description of such woman, never to be, a London ton Lady was a woman who had married and became wrapped in the push and pull of society. Giving her life and devotion to become the tip top Lady. She realized she had succeeded, but it had been at a grave price.

She lost her one true love, she mothered a dimwitted son, she learned from her mistake and ignored her second, and tried anew with her third child. Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam had nothing in life to live for and her soul was giving up.

….

"Lady Elizabeth, it would be my highest honor and esteemed privilege to escort you to your lunch-in," Darcy said in a tone of all seriousness but his face portrayed humor.

Elizabeth smiled from her spot on the divan, "Why, kind and noble sir, I would be most pleased if you would escort me as well as accompany me," Elizabeth replied in the same humorful manner.

Darcy gave an over exaggerated bow, "Thank you, glorious woman."

When he stood back up and looked Elizabeth in the eyes they could not contain their mirth any longer and laughed uproariously.

Richard and Georgiana exchanged questioning glances but did not raise their voices, instead going back to their previous activities.

Darcy smiled at Elizabeth before taking a seat beside her close enough that their knees were touching. She smiled shyly at her hands before going back to reading her book. However, her thoughts were elsewhere.

When Darcy had met her down at the pond they continued their conversation from the night before in the library.

…

"Mr. Darcy, I fear many people still have yet much to tell me."

Darcy looked down at his feet before rising his honeyed eyes to meet Elizabeth's burnt ones.

"Elizabeth, perhaps we could sit down and discuss this?"

Elizabeth looked about her, "I suppose. There is the bench by the bridge we could walk to."

Darcy nodded and walked closer to Elizabeth offering her his arm, which she gladly took.

"Where to start, Elizabeth?"

She kindly smiled up at him knowing whatever he was about to relay was quite difficult for him. "Mayhap the beginning? I find that always a good place to start."

Darcy gave her a slight smile before looking out before him. "Yes, I quite agree. The beginning it is. I had been staying here at Pemberley for a few months or so. Georgiana had been lonely ever since the death of our parents and I realized I was quite lonesome as well, besides Pemberley needed me. My steward had sent me numerous letters urging me to come back, there were decisions and problems only the master could handle it seemed. I packed up and closed my London home for the time and left for Pemberley. Upon my arrival I immediately realized how downcast Georgiana had become. The bright, cheerful little girl I had left had grown weary and burdened it seemed. I pushed the problem aside and onto her companion. I was in very much the same state as she and needed a distraction. Something I easily found in the busy streets of London but not so much in the quiet countryside of Derbyshire. So I buried myself in my work.

'Months past and nothing had changed until one day I received a letter from a man in Dorset, something about him having unfinished business with my father he would like to finish with me. As you know Dorset is quite a ways from here. I jumped at the chance for some change and told Georgiana of my impending travels that night at supper. Georgiana's mood immediately changed. She had been neutral in her emotions as of late but as soon as I relayed to her my plans her countenance dropped. Thinking on my feet and not with my head I suggested she take a trip as well. She brightened and all at once suggested Bath. Her drawing master apparently had spoken highly of the town and they were to be opening The Royal Theater there. You might know Georgiana is quite enraptured with the theater. I did not see any reason why she could not go, as her companion would be traveling with her and her companion talked highly of Bath as well. The idea seemed so simple and easy and I hoped it would help Georgiana's spirits. I had everything arranged to drop her off on my way to Dorset as I travel right through Bath. I would spend a day or so with her, make certain everything was in order and from there depart for my own travels.

'On my way back I would pick her up and we would travel back to Pemberley together. I took Georgiana to the theater my second night and departed the next day. I suppose it was enough to set the tongues a wag. My departure was talked of and the stay of Mr. Darcy's sister was old news by the time I left the town. Who but Mr. Wickham should be in Bath and hear the "good" news."

Elizabeth looked up at Mr. Darcy as they continued to walk towards the bridge where the bench lay. "Mr. Wickham? Why I have not heard that name since I was a child. He was a cruel boy. I remember he pushed me into the pond when you three were fishing and I wanted to see."

Darcy nodded, "I remember that as well, I fished you out as I did the trout."

Elizabeth gave a light laugh, "I was so embarrassed. I extracted my revenge, however."

At that Darcy gave a great laugh, "Yes, I remember that too."

Elizabeth smiled, "Continue, Mr. Darcy."

"Yes, well Mr. Wickham was in town and presented himself to my sister. He spent days and evenings with them. Working his way into my sister's good graces. Georgiana fancied herself in love and Wickham used it to his obvious advantage. Convincing her to elope with him in the coming week. Georgiana fell in love with the idea of marrying her childhood tender and Brother's close friend."

Darcy stopped as he felt Elizabeth clam up. Her grasp on his arm releasing as she tried to wiggle it free.

"Elizabeth, darling, lovely Elizabeth. Look at me," He commanded as he stopped and turned towards her. "Love, look at me," he said in a gentle whisper as he drew her chin between his forefinger and thumb. Her glorious brown eyes sad and shamed looked into his gentle brown ones. Darcy gave a small smile before lifting her face to meet his. His lips landing softly on top of hers. Elizabeth felt a jolt go through her at the simple touch, bringing forth to her mind the memory of the night before. He pulled away slowly so their lips were the last thing to part. "The circumstances are different."

"How so, Darcy? Georgiana and I are the same."

"No, you are not. Your situations are completely different and the men involved are too. Let me finish and you will understand."

Elizabeth nodded and Darcy tucked her hand once more in the crook of his elbow covering it with his left hand.

"Wickham had then visited her frequently in her private quarters. The servants were only paid to clean and assist if beckoned. They were to turn a blind eye to all improprieties. Georgiana grew accustomed to Wickham's visits, though she was weary at first, he convinced her it was fine as they were to be wed. He as well, convinced my poor sister not to relay the news of her happiness to me until after the wedding, as I would not understand. One night Wickham visited her as normal only this time it was later in the evening. Georgiana requested he be shown out as she was not properly attired and to come again in the morning. Wickham forced his way in and onto Georgiana, before her screams reached anyone's ears the deed had been done. Wickham had made it certain she would have to wed him. The money signs shining in his eyes. Georgiana passed out from pain and shock as a Mr. Jones forced his way into the room. Mr. Jones being an old servant at the establishment. Mr. Wickham was announced dead within hours due to a concussion and internal bleeding, all believed to be from Georgiana's struggling's."

Elizabeth's eyes had grown wide and sad as Darcy took a deep breath. They had, by now, reached the bench and were seated overlooking the large pond. "Oh, Darcy. I am so sorry. I wish there is something I could have done, could still do?"

Darcy smiled sadly, "You are too good for this world, Elizabeth. However, I am not finished. Georgiana became with child and it was from there that I began searching for a wife. I could not send her away, Elizabeth. Not after the carelessness I had taken with her, if I had not been in my own self-pity I would have taken better care of her. So, it was decided I would find a wife of high standing to cover the slander and claim the child as mine. Richard, of course, knew everything and forbid me from even your friendship. Elizabeth, you must know how torturous that was for me, after seven years of not being able to correspond with you and now. Now you were before me, this beautiful goddess and I was not allowed even the benefits of civility. Richard saw what the impact was of such a decision and allowed me your friendship as well as looking over you as he was to depart for the war front. However, as I was beginning to reacquaint myself with you Georgiana sent an express to London, the morning I was to meet you. She had taken ill and was struggling. I spent days outside her bed chamber as she was having problems with the child. Elizabeth, she was not far enough along to give birth yet, she lost the child."

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes, she quickly turned away not wishing Darcy to see more weakness than he already had.

"Elizabeth, please do not hide from me," he whispered in her ear moving to kiss her temple. "Georgiana was grieved at the loss but it turns out to be better this way. The child would have had a hard life, it would not have been easy for it. The Lord saw to that as well and now it is properly buried in the Pemberley gardens under Georgie's most beloved flower."

"I know Darcy, and though I feel for the deceased child I am more burdened with Georgiana's feelings, and I am grieved at the feelings of relief flooding through me at this moment. I could have lost you. I know I am now only coming to terms with my feelings for you once more but, Darcy had you wed another I realize now I would have been heartbroken. That you had not waited for me, had not taken notice of me, and had cast me aside. I know those thoughts are silly and childish but they are true. Darcy, what of Georgiana? Is she in good health? Physically and mentally? I know to our eyes, Richard and I's, she is but, is she really?"

Darcy sighed and closed his eyes. He felt a small but firm pressure on his hand and his heart skipped a beat. Elizabeth was here for him as much as he was here for her. Oh, how he loved this woman!

"I fear Georgiana may never conceive again."

Elizabeth's eyes sadden once more, "Oh, Georgiana. Darcy, I wish I had known. I wish none of this had happened. I wish so fervently I could wipe away the past and start anew."

"I do not, Elizabeth. Everything we have encountered and endured has formed who we are this day, and I love this Elizabeth and the one I know is hiding behind her schooled mask as much as I admired the child Elizabeth. I would not love any other Elizabeth. I know you told me to wait till you could express the same sentiment in return but I cannot. I love you, Elizabeth. I love you so deeply and so ardently I fear I would perish without you. My heart would be torn to pieces and I would surely die. Elizabeth, marry me. Not as a duty and obligation but as a woman who could come to love me. Marry me Elizabeth," He pleaded as he grasped her hands and stared deeply into her beautiful brown eyes. He felt the scars tracing her palms and lifted them to his lips. Kissing each one. He watched as she closed her eyes and sighed. His lips traveling to the soft skin on her wrist. Placing a deliberately slow open mouthed kiss on the inside. Moving back over her palm to kiss each finger and repeat the process to the other hand.

"Elizabeth," he murmured against her skin. "Marry me," he once again pleaded.

"Yes," she breathlessly whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Yes, I will marry you."

Darcy's serious façade broke into a glorious smile that made Elizabeth's heart skip a beat and before she could join him in smiling she felt his soft but tender lips wrap around hers. His hands flat on her back as he slowly pushed her into his chest. Fusing their bodies together and trying to get as close as possible.

Elizabeth let out a delighted moan as she once again felt his hot tongue slide across her bottom lip. Instinctively parting her already occupied lips. However, Darcy pulled away before she could find out what his tongue felt like brushing hers.

She stared up at her past, present, and future with a growing feeling starting in her stomach.

"Elizabeth, you have made me the happiest of men. I will spend every waking hour showing you my love for thee.

" _There is a lady sweet and kind,_

 _Was never face so pleased my mind;_

 _I did but see her passing by,_

 _And yet I love her till I die._

 _Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,_

 _Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles;_

 _Beguiles my heart, I know not why,_

 _And yet I love her till I die._

 _Her free behavior, winning looks,_

 _Will make a lawyer burn his books,_

 _I touched her not, alas, not I,_

 _And yet I love her till I die._

 _Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,_

 _Judge, you that think_ , _such sports were harm;_

 _Were't any harm? No, no, fie, fie!_

 _For I will love her till I die."*_

Elizabeth placed her hand on Darcy's cheek, looking lovingly into his wonderful eyes. "Soon, Fitzy, soon."

He smiled brightly at her meaning and the use of her old name for him before capturing her lips once more.

"Come, my love. We must make our way back if we are to break our fast with our relations."

Darcy helped Elizabeth up and tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow. They were about to the cross the bridge over the small pond when Elizabeth untucked her hand and hurried over to the edge of it.

"Oh, Darcy! Look, you must see. How extraordinary!"

Darcy quickly walked over to see what Elizabeth was gushing over. She turned to him and pointed, "See?"

Darcy looked closely at the shining blue water. "Elizabeth, all I see is my reflection."

She sighed, "Look closer, see? Right there," she pointed once more at nothing extraordinary in the pond. Darcy in turn sighed before crouching closer. He looked hard at the water before her heard a lite giggle and hands on his back, before he had time to register what was happening he had fallen into the pond head first.

He was spluttering as he broke the surface and the first noise to meet his water clogged ears was Elizabeth's bright, pleasing laughter. She was on the ground clutching her stomach and giggling wildly.

Darcy laughed to himself before fixing his face with an angered mask. "Very funny, Elizabeth. Now, please help me out."

Elizabeth continued to laugh before she calmed herself enough to sit up and found a pouting and soaked Darcy wading in the pond. She rose to her feet wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes and went to help Darcy.

"Come, come, Mr. Darcy, it was all in good fun."

He only harrumphed. Elizabeth smiled before offering Darcy her hand, a little too late to realize the devilish smile crawl up his lips. She had enough time to shout, "Mr. Darcy, no!" before being pulled head first into the pond. He quickly wrapped his arms around her waist before she sunk to the bottom.

"Oh Mr. Darcy!" she wailed as a bright smile lit her face.

He pulled her closer moving the wet pieces of her hair from her flushed face before whispering in her ear, "Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth shivered but it was not due to the temperature of the water. She looked up into his eyes as her hands ran up his shoulders to his neck and on his cheeks. "Fitzwilliam," she breathed looking longingly at his wet, parted lips.

Darcy's eyes, however, staring at her heaving chest where her dress hung tightly. He felt Elizabeth's pointer finger run across his bottom lip before she bent and placed a sweet, soft kiss where her finger had been. Darcy sighed into her mouth before pulling away. He would have loved to stay and kiss his fiancé all day but they had their fast to break and Elizabeth had a lunch-in to attend. Not to mention they were both soaking wet now.

He placed a chaste kiss upon her brow before wrapping one arm around her waist and leading them to the edge of the pond. Elizabeth however, would have none of it and wiggled free to swim to the other side instead of climbing out and crossing the bridge.

"I had planned on taking a swim this morn before you so rudely interrupted me. I want to at least enjoy this, after all you are the one who pulled me in," she smiled at him as she began swimming to the other side. Darcy, first astonished, then bewildered, and finally amused smiled as he watched his future wife swim the width of the pond to the other side. He knew Elizabeth could swim, he had happened upon her many a time as a child, though Richard never knew. He had always been slightly mesmerized at the sight of a girl swimming. The concept so foreign to him. He had only heard of such things in stories of enchantresses and witches. He suddenly believed Elizabeth to be a wood nymph protecting the forest around Pemberley as well as indulging in its beauty from time to time.

"Yes, but who was the one to push me in?"

She laughed as she began to lay on her back and float idly across, "I was just wondering if you really did recall my payback to Mr. Wickham."

Darcy let out a laugh as, he too, began to swim across the pond. "Yes, and if I recall that was only half of your revenge."

Elizabeth smiled languidly up at the blue sky as she lay on her back above the water. She loved the feeling of the cool spring water coursing through her hair, down her neck, and around her shoulders. The way it seeped through her finger tips and down to her toes. She felt as if she was a small child once more and the feeling thrilled her, and she thought, perhaps healed her a bit as well. She might have to take a morning swim continuously as in order to heal fully. She turned at the end to back onto her stomach as she reached the edge and climbed out, Darcy not far behind her.

She smiled at him as he lifted himself out of the pond and sat next to her on the edge. Both conscious of each other's eyes roaming the other's body. Darcy snaked his hand once more around her waist and pulled her tightly against his chest and kissed her. He could feel the smile on her lips and the feeling made his heart swell. Elizabeth still needed time, she still needed healing and nourishment, but she was on the mend and that was all Darcy could have asked for.

…..

"Oh! Thomas! Thomas she has arrived!" Mrs. Molly Alexander smiled as she walked into the book shop. "Hello dear, how are you?" She asked Elizabeth as she walked forward to meet her.

Elizabeth smiled brightly as she took Molly's hands, "I am extremely well, and how does the day find you?"

"Extremely well," the old lady smiled back giving Elizabeth's hands a tight squeeze before letting go. "Come, Thomas is waiting in the house."

Elizabeth looked towards the door, Molly looking back at her and then towards the door as well. She smiled a knowing smile when Mr. Darcy walked in.

"Mr. Darcy," Molly curtsied, "What an honor."

Darcy gave a small smile and bow, "The honor is mine, Mrs. Alexander, I assure you. I hope my coming is of no inconvenience?"

"Of course not, sir! I'll just set another place at the table, but I remind you Mr. Darcy, I am a country woman who helps run her husband's book shop. Therefor my table is to be set as such, nothing compared to your fine Pemberley I am afraid."

"You flatter me, Mrs. Alexander, however you also jump to conclusions. I prefer my table, just as I prefer my land. Simple and filled with country life."

Molly smiled, "Well, come on through then Mr. Darcy, and escort the lovely lady as well," she winked.

"With pleasure," he replied stepping over to Elizabeth and tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, leading her towards the back and into the house. Elizabeth smiled up at him as they entered the house.

"Lady Elizabeth," Thomas smiled as he stood from his seat, "Oh! And Mr. Darcy, an honor sir."

Darcy chuckled, "The honor is mine I assure you. Please sit, I can tell you are weary."

"Thank you, sir. I was just telling my Molly I need to send for my son. Have him run the shop until I may be able to hire someone else. My old bones just can't work any longer," Thomas sighed, "Please, sit."

"Thank you, sir," Darcy replied as he pulled Elizabeth's chair out for her before he took his own.

"Mr. Alexander?"

"Yes, My Lady?"

Elizabeth blushed, "Please, call me Elizabeth."

Thomas smiled, "Only if you call me Thomas."

"Agreed, Thomas. I was wondering, though it is not my place, why won't your son take over completely?"

Darcy could not help the smile which crept up his face, only his Elizabeth.

Thomas let out another sigh just as Molly returned carrying a dish of something steaming, closely followed by a maid carrying something else equally steaming.

"My boy, he is going to do great things. He went to Cambridge and received his degree, an uncle on Molly's side left him all his money when he passed. The man was a mean old man but filthy rich. Never married or had any children. My boy would visit him on occasion as he we were his only remaining family members. However, my Molly and he weren't on such good terms. Out of family obligation and all we would send him every month or so for a quick check in. I suppose the old man grew fond of my boy and that's why he left everything to him."

"I see. Well, Thomas, my heart is pleased to hear you speak with such pride for this young man. I express the urge to wanting to meet him. He sounds quite interesting, and if he is going to do great things I wish to meet him before he does so. This way I will know the man before he may be able to change with the fame and fortune, and if he does give him a whack upside the head."

Thomas slapped his knee and laughed a good hearty laugh, "I think the two of you will get along nicely."

Darcy, not comfortable with the conversation, decided to participate. "Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth turned her kind eyes from Mr. Alexander to him and he felt his jealousy subsided momentarily.

"Would you not have met him when you visited here so frequently in your youth?"

"Hm, I suppose I would have, but I do not ever recall meeting a little boy."

Thomas interceded at this point, "Ah yes, my boy was sick for a long while. Stuck to his bed and only moving to do what was necessary," Thomas paused and smiled at his wife as she walked in again with one more dish and set it on the table. Thomas quickly, or quickly for an old man, stood up and pulled out the chair for his lady. She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand.

"Yes, our little Thomas was of a sickly constitution. That is until, by the grace of God, he was healed one day. He popped his little head up and said, and I'll never forget it My Lady."

"Elizabeth, please," Elizabeth politely interrupted.

Molly smiled, "Molly then dear, as I was saying I'll never forget what he said. He said 'Mama, I think I am tired of being ill. I want to make my life worth something,' and up he hopped and dressed and went outside. Heaven knows where he went. He would never tell, only said 'I had a chat with a man in high standing and we agreed I am not going to be ill any longer.' So, that is most likely why you never met our little Thomas."

Darcy felt all his jealousy recede at the thought of a sickly man, however, when Elizabeth looked over at him and smiled he felt guilty for thinking such a thing.

"Come, you must be starved. Eat, eat, eat! Elizabeth, you have barely any meat on your bones take more than that," Molly reprimanded as she scooped a big helping of vegetables on her plate.

Elizabeth let out a small chuckle but did not refuse.

"Now tell me, Mr. Darcy," Thomas began as he took a bite of chicken. "Are the Mrs. and I to wish you joy?"

Elizabeth blushed beautifully and Darcy let a sly smile peak at the corners of his mouth, "Indeed you are, Mr. Alexander."

"Oh! Oh! Elizabeth how wonderful! We wish you the most amount of joy there is to wish. Oh! Thomas they are to wed!"

Thomas chuckled as he watched his wife clasp her hands over and over as she continued to exclaim congratulations.

"You will be the best of mistresses, Elizabeth, and an even more wonderful Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth ducked her head to hide her blush. She could not remember having ever blushed so much in her life. Elizabeth, being a Lady and the daughter of The Earl of Matlock, was used to attention, but she had never delighted in it. Attention made her uncomfortable and made her feel pressured. Elizabeth liked to have her thoughts in order and her wits about her before being thrown into company, it was something she mentally had to prepare for.

"Thank you, Mr. Alexander," Darcy nodded in his direction, "Mrs. Alexander," He nodded in her direction, "For your warm comments."

Molly smiled brightly as she continued to eat as did Thomas.

Lunch-in continued on in the same manner. Thomas questioned Elizabeth on the books she had bought the other day and about the ones she had ordered. Darcy would join in the conversation when he saw fit otherwise he remained quiet and let Elizabeth enjoy her lunch-in. Thomas sent them off with two books each and Molly with the invitation to stop by any time.

"I had not realized the Alexander's and you were so familiar, Elizabeth," Darcy relayed as he sat across from her in the Darcy carriage.

Elizabeth looked away from the window and up at him, giving a small smile. "Yes, I like to think of them as a beloved aunt and uncle. I grew quite fond of them as a little girl. I visited this book shop more times than you know, Mr. Darcy."

"Elizabeth," he said in a low voice.

Elizabeth's eyes quickly flew to her feet and her hands twisted tighter together. She took a deep breath, "Fitzwilliam," she said as she exhaled.

Darcy smiled, "Please continue, love."

Elizabeth returned her gaze back to his face, "I visited the book shop more than you know, Fitzwilliam. I believe it was my last summer here and it was also the summer you and Richard excluded me from almost every activity. So, having received permission from my Father, my governess took me to the book shop whenever I so wished. That summer was the same one I found the small library. I recall it was quite lacking in adequate reading material as the library had not been used in a long time."

"Yes, I had always wondered where all those books came from. I had thought Father had finally took it upon himself to restock it."

Elizabeth laughed, "I do not know whether to be flattered by your comment Mr. Darcy or offended. On one hand you complimented my reading material in saying you believed they had all been chosen by the late Mr. Darcy. However, on the other hand I believe I should be offended because you believed I could not be a reasonable possibility in being the one to restock the library. However, I must as well give you the benefit of the doubt as who would believe a ten almost eleven-year-old could have such perceived taste in reading material?"

"Then, pray tell, My Lady, what is your conviction?"

Elizabeth pretended to be deep in thought, "I conclude I would rather be flattered by your comment than offended."

"Splendid, as that was my intention."

…

 _Dear Brother and Sister,_

 _Mother, Lady Eleanor Fitzwilliam, has passed in the night. Due to her not being able to overcome her sudden illness. The reading of her will will be read this next Monday. As it is not required either of you be present I do not request your presence, however, should you wish to come we have room available at Matlock. Where, might I add, we are to be going as Mother is to buried next to Father in the family vault._

 _Hoping you are in the best of health,_

 _Thomas Fitzwilliam Earl of Matlock_

Richard stared at the paper in his hands as he reread the writing once more. His … his Mother was gone now too? _Why did she not send notice? Why had Thomas only written to tell of her death? HE was her SON! Her second son yes, but her son none the less. He deserved to tell her goodbye._ Richard thought as he paced angrily in front of the low burning hearth. He abruptly stopped his angry pacing and looked out into nothing. _Elizabeth, oh Elizabeth he had no idea how she would react to this,_ and at that moment she walked into the room smiling brightly.

"Elizabeth."

"Richard," Elizabeth's smile dropped the slightest but returned when Darcy laid his hand on her elbow.

"Elizabeth I … I have unfortunate news."

Elizabeth looked to Darcy wondering if he had spoken to Richard about what he had done to her all those years ago. Darcy looked at her in confusion.

"What is it, Richard? Has your departure date been moved up?"

"No, I fear it shall again be moved back."

Elizabeth scrunched her eyebrows together, "Whatever for?"

"Elizabeth, Mother is dead."

The only noticeable change in Elizabeth's countenance was the small tear rushing down her right cheek. She let it fall past her nose and past her lips till it hung off her chin and fell to the floor. She ran her hands down her gown as Darcy stepped closer to provide comfort but she shook his grasp. Without looking from the floor she asked, "How?"

"Grief, I presume."

"I suppose you must be off for Matlock then?"

Richard stared at her. He knew what transpired between Elizabeth and their Mother but he thought her reaction would be quite different, _but,_ he supposed, _you cannot miss nor mourn someone you never knew nor deeply loved._

"No, the burial date is the same as your birthday and I assume your wedding. I would not miss your wedding for the world, Elizabeth. Especially with the groom being my brother."

"Funny," Elizabeth quipped, "how someone who considers a person dear to them and yet they can still knowingly hurt them. Both."

Richard's brows met in the middle before he looked to Darcy and saw the hard look on his face and watched as his hand, once again, clasped around Elizabeth's upper arm. Understanding immediately consumed his features. "Elizabeth, please, you must forgive me. You must understand."

Elizabeth's gaze traveled from the floor to meet her most beloved brother's. Her soft eyes now hard and cold. "I am _sick_ of everyone telling me to _understand_ ," She bit in a low voice. "I am not a child. I understand many things. I understand every amount of pain and suffering I have endured was the cause of other's selfish desires. So tell me, Richard, what was your selfish reason?"

"Elizabeth, it is not that way at all. I was trying to protect you."

Elizabeth's eyes grew and she stepped out of Darcy's grasp yet again, moving closer to her brother. "From what? From a friend, from a brotherly figure, from letters?"

Richard cast his eyes to the floor, "From a broken heart, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth let out a humorless laugh, deep and throaty, "HA! I hope it brings you utter pain in knowing you failed! You failed, Richard. With your ploy and protection you gave me exactly what you thought you were protecting me from. Please, feel free to leave and go to Mother's burial. Right now I cannot happily commit myself to Fitzwilliam knowing you are standing behind him."

Darcy gave a small hiss. Elizabeth's words had not been directed at him and he still felt the hurt radiate through his bones. He looked from his fiancé and at his closest friend and saw barely concealed tears.

"As you wish, my dear little one," He uttered before leaving the room.

Darcy watched him leave before turning back to Elizabeth, her back facing him. He stood there in the silent room not knowing what to do.

"Tell me, Fitzwilliam. Tell me I will not regret my words."

Darcy walked over to his beautiful love and wrapped his hands around her waist from behind. Lowering his lips to her collar bone and up her neck. Her breath caught but not from the feel of his soft lips kissing her frigid skin. Darcy was indirectly telling her, "I am here for you and support you in whatever you do, but I believe you will indeed regret your words if you do not rectify the situation."

"Make sure he does not leave, Fitzwilliam," his name a prayer from her lips. "I … I …"

"Sh, love, I understand," Darcy comforted, leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on her lips before untangling himself and walking from the room.

 **A/N: So I know this chapter is a bit rough and shorter than normal but I was having serious writer's block. I went to the Netherlands over the last weekend hoping to take a bit of vacation, as well as give me break from writing to gather my thoughts. I came back Tuesday hoping to write again but it just was not there. I wrote this an attempt to start back up again. Hopefully the next chapter will be better.**

 **Thank you for the amazing reviews and faves and follows they mean so much!**

 **The poem is by Thomas Forde, though in the book I retrieved it from it does not give a title.**

 **Much love,**

 **~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

 ** _Recap: Elizabeth finds out about Georgiana having been with child. Darcy accompanies her to lunch-in at the Alexander's, the bookshop. Elizabeth confronts her brother about his interfering and they find out Lady Eleanor passed away._**

Richard left the room in a rush not wanting to break down in front of his sister or Darcy. Taking the stairs two at a time he reached his chambers and enclosed himself in them. Leaning his back into the door he raised his face to the ceiling and took deep breaths.

Richard was a Colonel in His Majesty's Army. He had seen men constantly die and brutally. He had seen his fair share of spouting blood and amputations. He had buried more men then he could count on his fingers and toes. Hell, Richard had even been one of the men to bring death to the other side. War was nasty business and not meant for the weak hearted. Richard had seen all of its ugly heads, and though nightmares sometimes haunted him at night and he was sometimes a bit jumpy, he had never broken down.

Now, with the only family relation Richard had truly and devotedly loved despised him, he was devastated. He had thought at the time he was protecting her. He knew Darcy was just coming into society, and being a man himself, knew he would want to, how you would say, sample everything society had to offer.

He _also_ knew Elizabeth's feelings for the man, it was quite obvious how she followed him around like a lost puppy. He was hoping with her being sent to finishing school her feelings for the man would disappear. He had strongly _urged_ Darcy to not write to Elizabeth, and would casually slip into conversation how improper it was to write a young girl. Darcy did not listen and Richard could see Darcy's feelings starting to become more formed. So, he sat him down and told him flatly not to write his sister or he would have to stop the correspondence himself as self-appointed guardian.

He was satisfied with the results, though his sister was crushed at first, she seemed to move past it as did Darcy. That was until her coming out ball and Richard knew we was damned. Elizabeth had grown to be quite a beauty and Richard was thankful for his Mother's matchmaking ways as she batted away other suitors. Richard had liked Lord Morton and could see Elizabeth making a good wife for him. However, it was painfully obvious that Lord Morton's feelings were not reciprocated. Elizabeth, even if she did not realize it, was still very much head over heels for Darcy, and it seemed Darcy had finally sorted out his feelings and reciprocated Elizabeth's.

Richard, had again, thought he was doing the right thing in forbidding a friendship as their feelings were purely physical. Richard had convinced himself what he was doing was right. That is until he was called to the war front once more and knew Elizabeth would be crushed. She would not be as crushed though if she had a friend to lean on, as Richard now realized that's what she needed while she was away at school. He asked Darcy to be her guardian of sorts in his place with the intent to test the waters, so to speak, between the two. He was hesitant as Georgiana had still been with child at the time and Elizabeth would have been the talk of the town if she had wed Darcy, but who was Richard to stand in the way of love? Yes, he also was against the marriage when conversing with his Father, but it was in that moment everything had become a reality. His little sister was not a little girl anymore and Darcy was not a confused boy anymore. They were adults who, Richard now saw, loved one another deeply.

…..

Elizabeth sat in the drawing room with her head nested in her hands. Her body was rocking back and forth in small soothing motions. Richard was her last relation she trusted completely. He was her best friend. He helped her through so much only to realize he was one of the reasons for her heart break.

"Lizzy?"

Elizabeth quickly wiped her eyes and dragged them to meet the small, worried gaze of her future sister-in-law.

"Georgie! Sorry, I … I …"

Georgiana gave a small smile before walking over and sitting next to Elizabeth, placing her small hand on her back and rubbing in soothing circles. Elizabeth gave a shuddered breath and rested her head on her shoulder. Georgiana moved her hand to wrap around her shoulders as the other hugged around her other side. Her head resting on top of Elizabeth's.

Elizabeth let her future sister comfort her as she let her hurt burn off of her. Elizabeth realized how different this sort of comfort was from the way Darcy comforted her. She could not explain it but she appreciated them both. She could not help feeling overcome with a sudden surge of emotion. This was the family she was marrying into and she could not be more blessed. This was what she craved for so long, what she had wanted from her family. And that was when she realized she could not let Richard leave. He may have seriously hurt her but he was the only family she had left connecting her to the Fitzwilliam's and she was not giving it up.

…..

Darcy walked to Richard's chambers and hesitantly knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response he purposely strode in.

"Richard."

Richard was sitting in one of the leather chairs by the hearth with a drink in his hand. "I lost her, Darcy. My baby sister, my only family, I lost her. I am sorry, Darcy, for what I did. I thought what I was doing was right and mayhap I was resentful of you."

Darcy's brow furrowed as he took a seat in the other leather chair, pouring himself a drink from the decanter. "Why would you be resentful of me, Richard?"

"Because you had it figured out, Darcy. You went to University and graduated top of your class. You were heir to the Darcy name and fortune. You had a waiting job for you and you found the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. I know it is petty of me, Darcy, but being the second son and your closest friend was never easy. Watching you breeze through life, no problems or complications. Darcy, you did not even have to bat an eye at wondering if the woman you loved, loved you back. Everything fell neatly into your lap, and here it is once more. I forbid you from friendship with my sister and a marriage agreement pops up from the ashes. While I, Darcy, am sent once more to the war front where I will fight for my beloved country and if I make it home have no one waiting for me. I cannot help the way I feel Darcy, and I let my resentment and jealousy control my actions, and for that I am truly sorry."

Darcy stared at the pristine floor under his feet and sighed. He had never realized Richard felt this way. Darcy had always been a humble man he presumed but mayhap something in his manner showed otherwise. He had never meant to belittle or flaunt his wellbeing to Richard. Richard was like a brother to him.

"It brings me pain to hear you utter such feelings, Richard. Had I known, perhaps there was something I could have done, could still do. I, without hesitation, accept your apology, but it is I who must ask for forgiveness. I am deeply sorry for the pain I have caused, Richard."

Richard let out a forced chuckle, "Do not worry yourself over it, old man. The past must remain in the past. Think of it as old news."

Darcy was about to reply when a timid knock sounded at the open door.

Richard immediately stood from his seat staring at his baby sister.

"Richard, might we be able to speak?"

"Of course!"

Darcy stood to leave but Elizabeth stopped him, "I believe we should all talk. We are to be a family in law soon and in love, it is my wish to start off right. There has been too much hurt and too much secrecy. I wish to start anew. Richard, though I am still extremely hurt by your actions, I want you there for my nuptials. I would prefer, as well, if you would give me away. Time will heal this broken seam in our friendship and I believe forgiveness to be the first stitch. Darcy, I realize I have yet to forgive you as well, and I must physically speak the words to release this weight. So, my beloved Fitzy," Elizabeth smiled brightly at him, "I forgive the past mistakes we have all made and deem this day a new beginning. As far as I am concerned, I believe we are all a family as of today. No more hurt, no more secrets, no more pain. We have had enough and I am ready to be rid of it."

Richard let out a ragged breath before he crushed his dear little one in a breath taking hug. She returned it with an equal amount of vigor. Darcy and Richard clasped hands in a strong grip and Elizabeth shyly smiled up at her beloved as, she too, let out a ragged breath. Matters of confusion, misconception, and pain had finally been put to rest.

…

The week seemed to pass in a flurry of pre-wedded bliss. Elizabeth and Georgiana spent their days in a blur of fabric, flowers and food. While Darcy and Richard spent theirs in a blur of estate matters, whiskey, and pinning after their women. Well, Darcy pinning after his woman openly while Richard, not as secretly as he thought, pinned after the other woman of the estate. Darcy had noticed it when Elizabeth and Richard had first arrived, but had forgotten to bring it about as other matters arose. Richard, it seemed, had a bit of a tender for the young Miss Darcy. Darcy had to laugh at the irony of it all, but knew exactly what the poor man was going through. Darcy already knew once Richard worked up the courage to ask for a courtship he would, without hesitation, approve. However, he also knew he wanted to have a bit of fun first.

Darcy was in his study looking over a matter of miscommunication between two of his tenants when a knock sounded at his door. "Enter," he distractedly called. Elizabeth, carrying a tea tray, walked into the study heading straight for Darcy's desk.

Darcy looked up not fully present and looked back down, before recognition dawned and he looked back up. "Elizabeth," he breathed. "Is something the matter?"

Elizabeth smiled brightly, she had not felt so weightless in a long time. Everything with her dearest brother had been straightened out. Everything between Darcy and the same brother had been worked out, and Elizabeth now knew everything. That was almost everything. Her Father's letter burned in the palm of her hand where she held it between her hand and the tray. She had wanted to read it in the comfort of her fiancé's arms.

"No, nothing is the matter. I simply thought you could use some tea as you have been hard at work all morning."

Darcy smiled at the picture she presented, standing there with tea in her hands and a slight smile on her flawless, porcelain face. Darcy was to have this for the rest of his days and that thought alone brought extreme warmth to his very bones.

"I love you,"

Elizabeth's smile brightened even more, "Figures. I bring the man I love tea and present him with my humble self only to be played a fool. He loves me sure enough but not for the reasons he speaks."

Darcy catching on placed a mask over his features, "And pray tell, woman I love, what reasons have I falsely made?"

"Not falsely, sir, for they are true, but it is those reasons which I despise that you love me."

"Are you assuming I love you because you serve me as a maid would serve me?"

"I fear it is so, sir," she overdramatically sighed.

"I must admit you are not false in your assuming's. Pray, serve me my tea. I am a very busy man who hasn't all day."

Elizabeth laughed at her love's faux superiority and set the tray down on his beautiful, wood desk.

"As you wish, my love," She replied taking the teapot in her hands and pouring him a cup first and then herself.

Darcy smiled as his fiancé handed him his tea, looking back down at his papers once he took a sip. He looked back up and saw the distressed look on Elizabeth's face.

"Love, what is the matter? Are you ill?"

Elizabeth wrung her hands, the letter being wrung as well. She gulped before briefly meeting Darcy's eye and hurriedly looking down. "I … I …"

"Elizabeth,"

Had the situation not been one of importance Elizabeth would have let a sigh escape her lips. The way Darcy uttered her name made her positively weak at the knees. He let it fall from those perfect lips, which made her knees weak as well, as if it was a prayer and he was saying he was thankful for something of great importance. The name was laced with such love, devotion, and utter awe.

"I have my Father's letter," she simply stated as she showed him the wrinkled letter.

"I see. Why have you not yet read it?"

She sighed before moving behind his desk, he smiled as a wicked thought occurred to him. Without over thinking it he swiftly pulled Elizabeth into his lap. She let out a lite yelp of surprise before blushing a deep red. Darcy thought it was the most precious thing he had witnessed.

"You were saying, love?"

She was still blushing heavily, however, she managed to squeak out, "I, well it did not feel as it was the right time. However, with us wedding in two days' time I felt I should read my Father's last words, as it is, it was him who moved our … relationship along. However, Fitzwilliam, I do not wish to read it alone. I fear I will not be able to read it all by myself."

Darcy placed a finger under Elizabeth's chin forcing her to look him in the eye. Her beautiful brown eyes, so much resembling melted chocolate, gazed back at him with hesitation and apprehension. He gave her a small smile before planting a small, sweet kiss on her lips, something to assure her with. "I will be here the whole time you read the letter."

"Fitzwilliam?" She questioned still perched in his lap. She was starting to think she had found her favorite spot in Pemberley.

"Yes, love?"

She looked down before meeting him dead on, "Would you read it for me?"

"Are you positive?"

She gave a small nod of her head.

"If that is what you wish I shall read it."

She gave a small smile, "It is," she replied while simultaneously handing him the letter. Darcy unfolded the letter, quickly scanned it, and began to read aloud.

 _"_ _My Dearest Daughter,_

 _I fear I will not make it by the time you come back around and I will not leave this Earth before our conversation is through. As I was saying, I had not considered sending you to school until I signed the marriage agreement with Mr. Darcy senior. You see, he had some conditions, as did I, which we agreed upon in a spoken agreement. One of Mr. Darcy's conditions was that you complete finishing school and become a proper Lady. Though the Darcy family is not titled, there is a certain image they must uphold. Mr. Darcy senior wanted a lady with a proper education in the finer arts to wed his son. So it is with that said I sent you off to finishing school. Elizabeth, that was one, if not thee, hardest thing I have done in my life. I did not want you to think I was sending you away as a means to be rid of you. I did not want you to think I was sending you away because you proved to be a disgrace of sorts to the Fitzwilliam name. I was doing it for your own good my little Lizzy. I know you must be screaming in suppressed rage at my words, for your own good indeed. However, Lizzy, it is so, you were the only thing on my mind as I watched you leave on that ship, not to be back for seven long, tortuous years. I wanted you to have a guardian, Lizzy. Someone who was not Thomas, your eldest brother. He is a good man and he provides for his wife and children but you would have been squandered under his thumb. I realize since you have come back from school, Lizzy, you have not been the same. I chose to ignorantly ignore your changes and revel instead in the woman you had become. So pretty and graceful, the lady your mother and Mr. Darcy wanted. I had done my job and it seemed even the young Mr. Darcy took notice without my having to say anything of the marriage agreement. I was hoping if I was fortunate I would never have to reveal the agreement and the two of you would be happy. However, it was idle of me to think I could be blessed so with the sins I carry on my hands. Lizzy, it is my dying wish, though I do not deserve it, that you forgive my past misdeeds and you remember me as the Father you had before I sent you away. I will always love you my cherished daughter. I apologize for not being the father you so deserved. And Lizzy? Do not punish yourself for others sins, enjoy life, embrace the love Mr. Darcy so obviously has for you. Read scandalous literature which would give your mother a heart attack, write anything and everything which pops into that head of yours, be the woman I know you should have been, Lizzy._

 _Love,_

 _your proud Father"_ Darcy finished.

Elizabeth had sat listening intently as Darcy read the letter to her. Her head had been resting on his shoulder and her eyes staring intently at the doors. She looked up at the man she loved and placed her hand upon his cheek. He gave her a small smile and stared into her eyes, a silent understanding passing between them, it was with that look Elizabeth finally felt free. She felt the weight of the world suddenly lift from her shoulders. She still had a lot to recover from, her Father's death was still resting on her weary spirit as well as her Mother's. Richard's betrayal and Georgiana's loss, but all of that did not seem to matter anymore. She would deal with it, she would handle it all, taking every bit of it in stride. This was not her whole life, she was young, and God willing, she had plenty of time to replace the hurt with happy, better memories. Memories made with Fitzwilliam at her side. She let out a long held breath and rubbed her thumb lovingly up and down Fitzwilliam's cheek where her hand still rested. She returned Darcy's smile before pulling him closer and placing her lips upon his. 

**A/N: Let me start by saying how sorry I am that it has taken me almost a MONTH to post this. I had hoped to post this last week but I left my computer at home when we went to Paris to celebrate my birthday. (So maybe you will all go easy on me as a Birthday wish? Please?) Let me also apologize for how short it is, this just seemed like the place to stop it. This is not the end, however, I am thinking two or three more chapters and maybe an epilogue. Thank you all for staying so faithful to my story and helping me progress as a writer, you all are truly wonderful. Well if you are kind enough review and let me know what you think.**

 **Lots of Love,**

 **~ Mrs. Lily Darcy**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Elizabeth, once again, sat before her mirror at her vanity dressing in her finest. She had once believed sitting at her vanity would be the death of her. She would come home from school as a woman and prepare for her coming out ball. Sitting at her vanity. With each new night, she would begin with sitting at her vanity. Come the time she found a husband, she would sit at her vanity. However, as she now sat at her vanity dressing for the day she would marry her love, she could only be grateful for the darn thing.

Lucy stood behind her, miraculously tending to her hair. The long curls being braided and twisted and pinned to her head. Lucy intricately wove other pieces around the front and back and let a few long curls hang down. Elizabeth smiled at the picture she thus far presented. Georgiana sat on her right, beaming on her almost-sister-in-law. She watched with a close attentiveness as Elizabeth turned a bit to allow Lucy to begin with her make up. Nothing over the top, as her mother no doubt would have wanted, a simple sweep of pearl powder, a pat of rouge, and all topped with a wax upon the lips. She felt decidedly pretty, a first in her life. She had always been told she was a pretty girl when she was younger, if not a bit boyish. When she started to become a young woman, she was envied for her growing beauty at her school, and, as she came out into society, she was decided a goddess in disguise. However, Elizabeth never could convince herself of their words, for they were just that; words, and though, words tend to have a strength to take down the strongest of men and sneakiest of women, they can also be empty nothings. So, when wagged about by the tongues of society, they can be rather hard to believe.

The last part was Elizabeth's favorite part out of the whole process, the dress. Pearl white from the bust line down, wrapped in a see-through silk netting. Covered from the bust line up, a white, decked in gold beads, leading to capped sleeves, and pooling around her slipper covered feet, a small puddle of fabric dripping from the dress. She felt every bit the goddess in disguise wearing such a gown. She also felt extremely loved as the gown had been Anne Darcy's. Wearing it made her feel as if her would-have- been mother-in-law was standing here beside her, overjoyed knowing this little girl she had loved so much was now truly becoming a part of the family.

"Oh, Elizabeth! My brother will forget how to breathe when he sees you," Georgiana squealed in delight.

Elizabeth blushed and gave her soon-to-be sister a smile, "Thank you, Georgie. You look beautiful yourself," and she did. Dressed in a blushing pink gown, trimmed in cream colors, and her golden hair elegantly pulled up.

She blushed in return as well and ducked her head, "Thank you, Lizzy."

"Lucy," Elizabeth smiled turning to her lady's maid, "You worked wonders yet again. Thank you for everything."

Lucy dipped a quick curtsy, quickly dabbing at her eyes, "Of course, ma'am."

Everything following that conversation went by in a joyous blur. Richard retrieved his sister from her chambers and into the awaiting carriage. Darcy was already at the church, waiting. The wedding was small. Consisting of only siblings and friends. Darcy and Richard, as well as Elizabeth, both believed it best to keep the actual wedding small but the announcement of the married couple big. They would throw a ball in a month's time for the public celebration of their marriage. The Bingley's, that is Charles and Jane Bingley, as well as their unborn child, were present, along with the Alexander's, Richard, and Georgiana. Elizabeth remembered nothing before or after the blessed 'I do's'. Her Fitzwilliam standing at the altar dressed in his finest and lovingly looking only at her. The way his eyes lit up, those brown eyes she loved so much, when he first saw her. The way his hands were a bit clammy when they were first placed in hers. Though, she thought hers must feel the same. The way he loving caressed her palm as it lay in his. Everything around Elizabeth seemed to fade away. The couple walked down the aisle together, both smiling like the two love birds they were. Well wishes rang out around them as they entered their carriage, back to Pemberley it went to enjoy the wedding breakfast.

Darcy had yet to release Elizabeth's hand upon entering the closed carriage. His thumb soothingly rubbing over her knuckles. Out of excitement and nervousness, Elizabeth's hand began to twitch, embarrassed she tried to pull away only to have Darcy hold on tighter. He turned his attention away from the window and towards her. Looking intently into her brown eyes, she could see herself reflected in his pupils. Keeping his focus, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the area between her thumb and forefinger. Then followed the path of one of her veins to her wrist, his eyes still never leaving hers. Elizabeth's mouth was slightly parted as she stared at her new husband, her Mr. Darcy, as he continued his game. Kissing again the area between forefinger and thumb before kissing her thumb, her forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, where he kissed the tip and then where her finger met her hand and her wedding ring rested, her pinky and finally the center of her palm. There she turned her hand the slightest as to cup his face. Lovingly resting her hand on his cheek, watching as he closed his eyes and leaned into her scarred hand. They stayed here for a while, in this time where things stood still and all the memories seemed to fade to new ones.

"I love you, my Elizabeth," Darcy whispered against her wrist, sending slight shivers up her arm and down her spine.

Elizabeth leaned closer to where her lips barely touched his ear and whispered back, "Amo solo te*," her lips brushing his ear with each word. Darcy groaned before taking Elizabeth in his arms and crashing his lips to hers. His hands cupping her face, drawing her up to meet his greedy lips. Darcy finally had access into her sweet mouth when she let out low moan when his tongue dragged slowly across her bottom lip. His fingers carefully weaving their way into her elaborately made up hair. His thumbs caressing where her jaw left off to meet her ear. Darcy had just started making his way to her neck when the stop of the carriage pulled them back to reality. Both breathing heavily and casting lustful glances at each other, Elizabeth smiled.

"I would have to say, Mr. Darcy, that was quite the greeting for your new wife."

"I have barely even introduced myself, dear new wife," he smiled roguishly.

Elizabeth blushed before her hands flew to her hair to tuck stray pieces back into order, all the while Darcy watched in content awe. This beautiful creature, this goddess fallen from the heavens, was his, and he was willingly hers.

Darcy exited the carriage first, offering up his hand to his new wife. Elizabeth smiled as she felt Darcy's fingers fold around hers. He helped her down and out of the carriage before tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow and covering it with his left hand. The staff was lined along the stairs leading into Pemberley, ready to welcome their new mistress, though, they had all already met her. Some having met her when she was just a child. Mrs. Reynolds was the first to step up and welcome the new mistress.

"Mrs. Darcy," she curtsied.

"Mrs. Reynolds," Elizabeth curtsied in turn.

"Welcome home."

Elizabeth could not help the smile that crawled up her lips as she bowed her head to Mrs. Reynolds and the rest of the staff, Darcy leading her up the rest of the steps to the doors. She turned to him and whispered, "Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy turned, a full smile on his lips, "Yes, wife?"

"I cannot help but feel elated at our homecoming, it is the homecoming I always envisioned coming home to from school. Only now, I have a husband by my side," she smiled up at him.

Darcy gave her hand a slight squeeze and smiled down at her. Darcy was normally a very reserved man, not speaking much unless brought into the conversation. He, of course, always had his opinion formed on the matter being spoken, but he tended to keep quiet. However, his reasons for staying quiet this time were completely different, in Elizabeth's presence he often became speechless. Not just by her beauty but by her words, her grace, and her overall person. How genuine she was, how kind she was, and, most of all, how brave she was. She had been through so much, and yet she still was a kind, loving woman, and he was fortunate enough to call her his bride, his wife, his love, and soon-to-be lover.

"Come, wife, let us change, and then we may eat."

…

Elizabeth reached her rooms, her new quarters in Pemberley and felt a rushing warmth encase her. She could see her mother-in-law in the very walls of the room. The wallpaper, the trimming, the vanity, and desk, and even the coverlet which lay upon the bed spoke of Mrs. Anne Darcy. Elizabeth felt close to tears. She had tried to cast her parents' death from her mind; if she ignored the pain and heart ache, it would go away, but even she knew what a lie that was. She had lost two people she had considered second parents to her as a child, and now she had lost her blood parents. She might have suffered at their unknowing hands, but she had still loved her parents as any child would. With a blind trust and faith in them. Their death had certainly shaken Elizabeth, and, though, she would morn their loss heavily, she was resolute in looking past the sad and looking to the good. She had just married the love of her life, she had Richard by her side and a new sister in Georgiana. Elizabeth pulled her hair from the pins and ran her fingers through the long tresses. Sighing as the weight and slight headache left her head. Saddened to have ruined all of Lucy's hard work. She walked across her room and to the wardrobe where she found a light lavender dress lying in wait for her. Slight lace covered the sleeves and chest area as well as the hem. The perfect dress to wear as Mrs. Darcy and to eat in for her first supper with her new husband. Elizabeth walked back over to her vanity and pulled open one of the drawers, intent on plaiting her hair at the least when she stumbled upon a stack of letters tied together with a string. Curious as to whose they were she lightly lifted them from the drawer and into her hands. Her right hand giving slight off and on twitches. Something Elizabeth realized they had been doing a lot lately. She had to start taking breaks in her writings as her quill tended to shake and make her penmanship illegible, from whence it made Elizabeth lose her train of thought and have to end her writings early. Faintly drawing her index finger across the string she looked at the address and handwriting. Recognition did not dawn until after a few moments of quiet examination, and, when it did, she gasped and dropped the letters onto the vanity. These were her letters. These were the letters she sent to Darcy throughout her schooling. He had kept every single one. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, an overwhelming sense of love overcame Elizabeth, and all she wanted to do was kiss her new husband with gratitude and love showing clearly in her eyes. Untying the note, she gathered the frayed and worn letters in her hands. She carefully unfolded the one on top and began to read. Her first letter to Darcy. Describing her adventure there. Tucked behind her letter was another. Pulling it forward she scanned the letter and realized it was a reply. Darcy had written her a reply. She pulled out the second letter and therein lie another reply. With each letter there was a reply, a letter never sent but still answered.

Elizabeth could not help the tears that leaked down her face.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy called behind the door. When he did not get a reply, he knocked again before walking in. "Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth coughed before quickly turning her face away from him. "I'm almost ready," she whispered.

"Elizabeth, what has happened? Is something the matter?"

She mutely shook her head.

Darcy, unconvinced, walked over to the vanity she was sitting on and crouched down in front of her. "Elizabeth," he cooed as he gently took her chin in between his fingers. She tried to turn her face away but his grip was strong. "Why are you crying? Has something happened?" When he got no reply he straightened up a bit and kissed her nose before wrapping her in his arms. Sometimes all a person needs is warm arms to comfort them and a heartbeat to steady their breathing to.

"The replies," she mumbled into his chest. "You wrote me back."

Darcy confused looked around before spotting the letters. "Ah, yes, I told you how much I wanted to write you back. So, I did, I just never sent them."

"I love you," she whispered into his chest.

Darcy kissed the top of her head before tucking her neatly back under his chin, "I love you," he softly replied.

…..

Darcy and Elizabeth spent the rest of their day after their supper sitting in the library as they read each other poetry. The hearth's gentle flickering causing the room to be cast in a warm glow. Candles were lit all around the room as the sun finished its descent.

Darcy was the one reading now,

" _Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,_

 _Guilty of dust and sin._

 _But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack_

 _From my first entrance in,_

 _Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning_

 _If I lacked anything._

 _A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:_

 _Love said, 'You shall be he.'_

 _I, the unkind, the ungrateful? 'Ah, my dear,_

 _I cannot look on thee.'_

 _Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,_

 _'_ _Who made the eyes but I?'_

 _'_ _Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame_

 _Go where it doth deserve.'_

 _'_ _And know you not,' says Love, 'who bore the blame?'_

 _'_ _My dear, then I will serve.'_

 _'_ _You must sit down,' says Love, 'and taste my meat':_

 _So I did sit and eat."_

Darcy looked up at Elizabeth as he finished. "So, I did eat, my wife, I feasted like a king. Love was never and never will be wrong."

Elizabeth smiled as she squeezed Darcy's hand. "I have heard the poem you have presented, dear husband, and I now raise the expectations with mine."

Elizabeth kissed Darcy's cheek before sitting up and starting her poem.

" _How ill doth he deserve a lover's name,_

 _Whose pale weak flame_

 _Cannot retain_

 _His heat, in spite of absence or disdain;_

 _But doth at once, like paper set on fire,_

 _Burn and expire!_

 _True love cannot change his seat,_

 _Nor did he ever love that could retreat._

 _That noble flame, which my breast keeps alive,_

 _Shall still survive_

 _When my soul's fled;_

 _Nor shall my love die when my body's dead;_

 _That shall wait on me to the lower shade,_

 _And never fade._

 _My very ashes in their urn_

 _Shall, like a hallowed lamp, for ever burn._

"Beautiful, just as you are, my wife. _My love and I for kisses played: She would keep stake, I was content; But when I won she would be paid: This made me ask her what she meant. 'Pray, since I see', quoth she, 'your waiting vein, Take your own kisses, give me mine again."_ And here Darcy took her face in his big hands, cupping both cheeks, and pulled her lips to his.

"Are you ready, my love?"

Elizabeth dazed, smiled. With a glint in her brown eyes she looked at him and smirked.

 _"_ _First time he kissed me, he but only kissed  
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;  
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,  
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its 'Oh, list,'  
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst  
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,  
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height  
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,  
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!  
That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown,  
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.  
The third upon my lips was folded down  
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,  
I have been proud and said, 'My love, my own.' _I am ready for anything with you, my love."

Darcy smiled as he grasped Elizabeth's hand and led them from the library. Elizabeth had heard from the girls in her school what happened between a man and woman on their wedding night. Had she not heard it from them, she would have read it eventually in the books her father allowed her to read or the ones she snuck from his library to school with her. Elizabeth was not mortified like the other girls were, rather she was curious. She did not quite understand all the technicalities of the act. However, Elizabeth was not scared she was more nervous she would disappoint her husband. What if she did something wrong? What if he did not like the way she looked? What if she hurt him? Could she even hurt him?

These thoughts were still racing in Elizabeth head when Darcy pulled her to a stop at her chamber door. Rubbing his thumb over her hand, he slipped his other to her waist and buried his face in her neck. Planting sweet kisses across it and breathing in the scent that was solely Elizabeth.

"Mm, Elizabeth," Darcy murmured against her neck, causing chills to race up her spine and down her arms. Elizabeth only sighed in reply. Slowly, Darcy inched his way up to her earlobe, grazing his teeth lightly over it. Smiling when Elizabeth gave a breathy moan. "Elizabeth, my Elizabeth. Ten minutes, in ten minutes meet me in my room through the door that connects from yours."

Elizabeth only nodded, too lost to speak. Darcy kissed the part of skin where her ear ends and her jaw begins before grunting and pulling away.

"Ten minutes," he said looking her in the eye.

"Ten minutes," Elizabeth confirmed before Darcy kissed the top of her head and turned and walked away. Elizabeth turning and walking into her chambers in a daze. "Ten minutes," she muttered to herself.

 **A/N: Thank you so much to my amazing beta LMFG. She has been so patient with me while editing this and so kind! She is simply amazing!**

 **So, I want to apologize for how long it has taken to get you guys this chapter. I enlisted three betas to edit all my chapters and wanted to have at least some of the old chapters edited before uploading a new chapter. Hopefully you like it and thank you for sticking with me you guys. I love you all! Only one chapter after this left and an epilogue and then it's over. So sad.**

 **Amo Solo Te Italian for I love only you.**

 **First poem is Love, I don't know who it is by. I got it out of a book and it doesn't have the author for some reason.**

 **Second poem is** **Love's Protestation – Love's Flame Unquenchable by Thomas Carew.**

 **Third poem is Sonnet by William Strode.**

 **Fourth poem is** **Sonnet 38 - First Time He Kissed Me, He But Only Kissed** **by** **Elizabeth Barrett Browning** **.**


	23. Chapter 23

Darcy knocks on Elizabeth's door from the one connecting to his quarters. Elizabeth's soft voice carries through to him, "Come in." Darcy loves Elizabeth's voice, it's calming and satisfying. Her voice makes Darcy forget there is evil in the world.

Entering her bedchamber, Darcy spots Elizabeth sat at her vanity seat. She's running her fingers through her long, chestnut curls. Darcy watches, mesmerized as they slowly uncurl around her fingers only to spring back when her fingers let go. Uncurl and spring, uncurl and spring. Darcy could watch her finger comb her hair all day, simply another thing he loves about her. Darcy smiles as a memory comes to mind.

"Do you recall me pulling your hair when we were children?" He asks his wife as he steps behind her. He watches her golden eyes scan his body from head to toe in her vanity mirror. Those same eyes meet his and he watches fixedly as they crinkle in the corner from her smile.

"Yes, indeed I do. I wore my hair in pigtails at the time, with silk ribbons, and you always would tug them and blame it on Richard."

Darcy laughs at the memory, "Yes, I would, wouldn't I?" His smile is still present when he reaches his hands for her hair, slowly running his fingers down her scalp and through her curls. Elizabeth's eyes flutter closed and she sighs.

Continuing past her curls, Darcy drags his hands slowly down her shoulders and around her neck. Down her womanly figure and splaying across her stomach. He smiles at his beautiful wife before sweeping her hair out of the way and kissing her neck. Elizabeth lets out an unexpected gasp at the contact of Darcy's lips on her skin. His tongue meeting her skin. She can feel his hot breath across her collar bone as his mouth moves across her neck and kisses her throat. Elizabeth hums at the feel, causing Darcy to let out a low groan.

He can feel Elizabeth's hum of pleasure against his parted lips and the desire that pulse through him at the feel makes his eyes darken. "Elizabeth, Elizabeth," He mutters as his lips meet the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Let me make you my wife, let me worship your body and make love to your soul."

Elizabeth only nods as Darcy scoops her into his arms and carries her to the bed. He carefully lays her down in the center of the bed before crawling up and over her. Looking down at his wife, his love, his Elizabeth, he can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love for this woman. His strong, beautiful, intelligent Elizabeth, who gave herself to him, even though he is the last man to deserve her. Elizabeth, who forgives so easily and has lost so much.

His lips meet hers softly, coaxingly as his hands drag up her legs. Whispering against her lips, "I love you, Mrs. Darcy," before he proceeds to worship Elizabeth with his heart, body, and soul.

 _…_

Epilogue

 _Journal,_

 _Fitzwilliam and I celebrate our fifth anniversary tonight in addition to William's first birthday. His little brother or sister now growing within me. Lady Gabriella Morton and Richard wed in a months' time once Richard retires from the army. I am so happy for them and Darcy is too. Georgianna met an Italian high lord while traveling with her cousin Anne. She now happily lives in Italy playing the pianoforte all day long and looking after the children from her husband's first marriage. My Darcy, the love of my life. We have had five years of marriage together and they have been the best five years of my life. I would go through all the horribleness of the past times ten to have these years. We traveled the first year of our marriage. I saw Italy, France, Germany, and so many other places. Darcy and I even staid in Scotland for two months holed up in a little cottage lost in each other's embrace. The second year of our marriage I learned how to be Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley and I loved every second of it, I still do. Darcy is not one for social gatherings, but in the last five years, I have hosted no less than three balls a year. He might scowl and gripe but he secretly loves them. I know he loves taking me out of my dress afterwards so he has no room for complaint. He's laughing now and writing that I like taking him out of his shirt and breeches just as much as he loves taking me out of my ball gown. I smack his arm right now but can't help but laugh, it's true. I love my husband. Darcy must write for me now as my hand can no longer hold the pen. No matter, Darcy and I quite like writing together. I thank you, dear husband. My old suitor Lord Morton ended up marrying his cousin Miss Hopwood. They now have three children and another on the way. The four of us are quite good friends. I still correspond with Jane Bingley but we never meet in person. Little William takes after his father. Dark, curly hair and deep eyes. He has the face of a cherub and the pudgiest body. I love him to pieces. I now bid you adieu as my husband is getting tired of writing and tired of my running my hand up and down his leg. I live a good life as Mrs. Darcy, the wife of Mr. Darcy and mother of William Darcy. Life is hard and never easy but it gives you character and for that I am grateful._

 _All my love,_

 _Elizabeth Darcy_


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